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RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM.

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RUBAIYAT TO OMAR KHAYYAM*

O Persian OMAR! -would thou -wert alive again!
Then might -we surely see thee strive again
To gather from the bitter flowers of Fate
Sweet honey for our human hive again !

The stars still shine as once they brightly shone,
When, as they watched thy terrace, nightly shone

The answering flashes of thy love and hate,
And red gleams of the -wine-cup lightly shone !

The blood-red petals from the roses fall, as then they did,
Death for us moderns like-wise closes all, as then it did ;
We know not more than thou didst know of life-to-be :
The ruthless Wheel of Heaven disposes all, as then it did.

But thy example makes us brave to face our Fate:
There may be Love beyond the grave to grace our Fate,

And we, mean-while, -will keep alive the glcnu of life, to be
Worth saving, if great ALLAH deign to save, to grace our Fate.

And so accept this volume as a meed of praise,

Alt ho thy Fame, so stablished, hath no need of praise,

And thou thyself art very far away from its —
So far, thou \l'st not take heed of blame or heed of praise.

A score of zealous poets have translated thee

In tongues unheard of -when the Mollahs hated thee,

And no-w accept their tribute, and this lay from us
For whom thy living words have re-created thee !

* In the complicated rimes of these quatrains there is an attempt to
imitate the Persian style.

CONTENTS OF VOLUME I.

Page
Introduction :

Sketch of Dr. Hyde x

" Sir Gore Ouseley xi

" Joseph Freiherr von Purgstall .... xiv

" Friedrich Riickert xv

" Professor Cowell xvi

Professor CowelPs Article .... xviii-xxxii, cxxxiv-cxliii

Sketch of Edward FitzGerald xxxiii-lxi

Account of FitzGerald's First Version and Later

Variants xlvii-li

Lord Tennyson's Poem to FitzGerald lx

The Rev. Mr. Plumtre's Comparison of Koheleth

and Omar l.xvii

Sketch of Bodenstedt lxxiv

" Graf von Schack lxxvi

Other Translators lxxviii-lxxxii

Mrs. Cadell's Article on Omar lxxxiii-xcix

C. J. Pickering's " 'Umar of Nîshâpûr " .... xcix-cxxii

Omar Khayyam, the Astronomer-Poet of Persia cxxxiii-clvi

RubAiyät of Omar Khayyam of NaishApür from

FitzGerald's Second Edition, 1868 .... clvii-clxxix

RubAiyät of Omar Khayyam of NaishApur, Com-
parative Versions 1--03

INTRODUCTION.

OMAR AND HIS TRANSLATORS.

England, which, through the genius of Edward
FitzGerald, may claim to have raised the fame of
Omar the Tentmaker to a degree which the old
poet never enjoyed even in his native land, may
also have precedence in having brought him into
notice. As early as the seventeenth century Dr.
Thomas Hyde devoted some space in his monu-
mental work on the " Religion of the Ancient
Persians " to the life and works of Omar. His Dr. Hyde's
knowledge of Persian, acquired at an age when Latil1
most boys would be thinking only of athletic sports, version
was so perfect that on the death of King William,
whose Court Interpreter he had been, he composed
an elegy in that language in thirteen distichs, printed
in ancient characters, for which the types were
expressly made. Dr. Hyde has the distinction of
being the first European translator of Omar's
poetry. This pioneer in the flowery fields of Ori-
ental literature deserves a few words of remem-
brance.

Introduction.

Dr. Hyde's

brilliant

career

His
learning

The Rev. Thomas Hyde, D.D., was born at
Billingsley in June, 1636. Under the tuition of
his father, who was rector of the place, he began
the Oriental studies for which he became distin-
guished. In his sixteenth year he entered King's
College, Cambridge, and made such progress in the
Oriental languages under Wheelock that he was
called to London to assist Brian Walton in pre-
paring his great polyglot Bible. His work was
that of correcting the Arabic, Persian, and Syriac
texts, and he performed the almost miraculous task
of transcribing into Persian characters the Per-
sian translation of the Pentateuch which had been
printed in Hebrew letters in Constantinople in 1546.
He also appended the Latin version which is in-
cluded in that monumental work. In 1658 he en-
tered Queen's College, Oxford, and was appointed
Hebrew reader. The following year, as a compli-
ment for his extraordinary accomplishments, he
was granted the degree of M. A. He was also
made under-keeper of the Bodleian Library, and
in 1665, chief librarian. In 1666 he was prebendary
of old Sarum, and in 167S arch-deacon of Glouces-
ter. In 1691 he became professor of Arabic, and
six years later Regius professor of Hebrew. He
was secretary and interpreter to Charles II. and
his two successors. He knew not only Persian
and Hebrew, but also Turkish, Arabic, and even
Chinese and Malay. He was one of the most
learned men of his day, and his " Veterum Persarum
Religio," though somewhat vitiated by his too great
reliance on Oriental authorities, is still valuable.

Introduction. xi

He resigned liis librarianship in 1701, and died in

I703-

One or two quatrains turned into Arabic ante-
date his: these, in M. Woepcke's French prose
version, in Pickering's verse translation, and in
the original Latin of Dr. Hyde, are reprinted in
the Bibliography.

Not long after Hyde was electrifying the learned
world by his display of genius, the attention of
English people was strongly attracted to the Orient,
not only by the vigorous policy of the East India
Company, which was then laying the foundations
of England's splendid empire in the East, but also
by the first translation of the " Arabian Nights,"
which opened a new world of imagination, the
reflection of which may be recognized in such
works as Addison's "Vision of Mirza"and Dr.
Johnson's "Rasselas." The East from this time
forth tempted many ambitious young Englishmen
to seek fame and fortune.

Among those who succeeded most brilliantly Sir Gore
was Sir Gore Ouseley, son of Ralph Ouseley, a Ouseley
gentleman of aristocratic lineage, and his wife,
Elizabeth Holland. Gore Ouseley, in 1787, at the
early age of seventeen, went to India, where he
was introduced to the celebrated Oriental scholar,
Sir William Jones.

A few years later, in 1792, he wrote his brother
William that he was studying Persian, and had in
less than five months made such progress that he
could read and write it with tolerable facility. He
became the friend and adviser of the Nabob of

Introduction.

The first
English
translation
of Omar

Persian
poetry-

Sir William
Ouseley

Oude, and acquitted himself in very delicate and
critical circumstances with such discretion that
his services were rewarded in 1810 by the offer
of the high dignity of Ambassador Extraordinary
and Plenipotentiary to the Shah. No one had
served at the Persian court in that capacity since
1628. Here again his delicate tact and his perfect
knowledge of Eastern etiquette, as well as his
fluency in spoken Persian, enabled him to accom-
plish important political ends. He dared to brave
the arbitrary eccentricities of that fierce monarch,
Futteh Ali, and fully won his respect and admi-
ration. He returned to England by the way of
Russia, where he received the most nattering at-
tentions from the Emperor Alexander I. He died
in 1844. Sir Gore Ouseley made a few translations
from Oriental authors, and two years after his death
a memorial of him was published containing his
" Biographical Notices of the Persian Poets, with
Critical and Explanatory Remarks," together with
an interesting sketch of his life, and extracts from
many letters. Sir Gore Ouseley seems to be the
first who ever translated any of Omar Khayyam's
poems into English. Toward the end of the memo-
rial volume are collected a number of proverbs and
aphorisms. Two of them are from Omar.

Sir Gore Ouseley wrote that he considered Persian
poetry "rich in elegancies, moral and entertaining,
replete with sublime though fanciful imaginations,
and faulty alone in its extreme floweriness."

His brother, Sir William Ouseley, also turned his
attention to Oriental literature, and before he went

Introduction. xiii

to Persia as Sir Gore's secretary he had published
(in 1 795) a large quarto volume entitled " Persian
Miscellanies," a work followed during 1797-S by
a sort of journal entitled "The Oriental Collec-
tion," to which Sir Gore Ouseley, an accomplished
musician, contributed curious articles on Kastern
music and instruments. Sir William began a
series of papers modestly called " A Sketch of an
Essay on the Lyrical Poetry of the Persians." It
remained unfinished, and Omar's name is not men-
tioned in it; but he translates what he describes Jami and
as a Bacchanalian sonnet by Jami, which has a Omar
decided resemblance to some of Omar's wine
Rubâiyàt : —

" We are of infamous character — outlaws and dis-
graced in the opinion of Society. O you who are
honest and chaste, shun our society." [Compare
Rubâ'iy XCIIL]

Sir William had not the highest opinion of
Oriental poetry: The poet, he says, "sometimes
aspires to celebrate his Creator in lofty and ani-
mated verse. But that the Persian lyre is in
reality ever tuned to such exalted strains I cannot
venter [sic] to assert; it is much to be feared
that the strings, relaxed from too frequent tink-
ling in the concert of unhallowed mirth, would but
feebly vibrate in the solemn symphony of devotion."

"The seven masters of the Persian Parnassus," Emerson
says Ralph Waldo Emerson in his brief essay on and Baron
Persian Poetry, " have ceased to be empty names." von Ham~
He did not include Omar Khayyam in the shining

Von

Hammer-
Purgstall

xiv Introduction.

Seven, but he hastens to add that Attâr and he
"promise to rise in Western estimation."

When Emerson wrote these words his knowledge
of Persian poetry was principally derived from the
German translations of Joseph Hammer, afterwards
known as Baron von Hammer-Purgstall, who with
vast industry, and with characteristic German learn-
ing, gave his countrymen specimens of some two
hundred of the Persian poets.

Joseph Freiherr von Hammer-Purgstall was born
June 9, 1774, at Graz in Steiermark, where his
father was Gubernialrat. He studied at Vienna
at the Oriental Akademie founded by Prince
Kaunitz. Freiherr von Thugut singled the boy
out for his capacity, already shown in the assist-
ance which he had rendered in the preparation of
Meninski's Lexicon of Arabic, Turkish, and Per-
sian. In 1796 he was a secretary in the Ministry
of Foreign Affairs, and three years later was sent
to Constantinople as so called Sprachknabe under
Freiherr von Herbert, who was trying to found a
great trade with the Orient. During the Egyptian
troubles, when the French were driven from the
Nile, young Hammer served there as interpreter,
and on his return visited England. In 1802 he was
Secretary of Legation at Constantinople, and four
years later consular agent in Moldavia. In 181 1
he was made Actualrat and Court Interpreter. In
1835 he inherited the estates of the Gräfin von
Purgstall, whose name he added to his own, and
was raised to the nobility. In 1847 he was elected
President of the new Academy, a position which

Introduction. xv

he held only two years. He died in 1856. The
volume of die "Calcutta Review" which contains
Professor Cowell's illuminating article on Omar
Khayyam has a letter from Baron von Hammer-
Purgstall's daughter, giving an account of lier
father's last days. He was one of the greatest
Orientalists who ever lived ; but unfortunately his
poetical skill was not equal either to his learning
or to his industry, and his works, forming a colossal
library in themselves, are left only to industrious
book-worms.

Such a large and expensive tome as his "History
of Persian Belles Lettres"' could hardly have become
popular, and readers might easily have passed with
indifference the few quatrains which he translated
from Omar, hidden as they were under the brighter
radiance of Firdusi, Hafiz, and Sadi, whose works
were comparatively familiar.

A few years later, in the fortieth volume of the Friedrich
Vienna "Jahrbücher der Literatur," being the Rückert
last quarterly number for 1827, appeared a still
more obscure reference to Omar Khayyam. Dr.
Friedrich Rückert, whose merits as a poet are
scarcely recognized as they deserve, contributed
an exceedingly learned paper, treating, among other
matters, of the proper transliteration of Persian
words, and particularly of the various metres em-
ployed by the Persian poets. To illustrate the
Rubd'iji terâne, or Ruba'iy of Song, which he
declares excels in freedom any other form of
Persian verse, he gives a transcription and literal
version of two of Omar Khayyam's quatrains.

xvi Introduction.

He begins his article with a pleasant tribute to his
highly honored patron and master in Persian, — sein
hochverehrter Conner und Meister im Persischen."
It was reprinted in Gotha, in 1874, with the title,
" Grammatik, Poetik und Rhetorik der Perser,"
under the editorship of W. Pertsch. The tran-
scriptions from Omar, together with the specimens
which Emerson translated from Hammer-Purgstall,
will be found in the Bibliography.
Professor While Joseph Hammer and Dr. Riickert were

Cowell working in collaboration in Vienna, Ipswich, Eng-

land, saw ushered into the world an infant who
was to be, as it were, the John the Baptist of the
Omar Khayyam cult. This was Edward Byles
Cowell. He was born January 23, 1826; he at-
tended the town grammar school, and Magdalen
Hall, Oxford. In January, 1848, FitzGerald wrote
him : " Ten years ago I might have been vext
to see you striding along in Sanskrit and Persian
so fast ; reading so much ; remembering all ; writ-
ing about it so well." He predicted that, if Cowell
lived, he would be one of the most learned men of
England. He took his B. A. degree in classics in
1854. He it was who inspired Edward FitzGerald
with his love for Persian literature, and was his
teacher. In 1856 he was called to Calcutta as
Professor of History at the Presidency College,
and was shortly afterwards elected also Principal
of the Sanskrit College. He returned to England
in 1864, was appointed Professor of Sanskrit at
Cambridge, and in 1874 was made a Fellow of
Corpus Christi College. His published writings

Introduction. xvii

are chiefly on Sanskrit subjects; but in 1S54 he Cowell's
printed, in " Fraser's Magazine," some prose trans- writings
lations of Hafiz. FitzGerald thought that he gave
the Persian too much credit for a mystical wine-cup
and Cup-bearer. A few years later, while in India,
Professor Cowell contributed to the " Calcutta
Review " a long article containing a number of
metrical versions of Omar Khayyam's poems.
They are for the most part unrhymed. Fitz-
Gerald introduced the biographical portion of this
article into the preface to his translation, with cer-
tain unacknowledged changes, and without men-
tioning the author's name, nor did he intimate that
Professor Cowell had anticipated him in making the
first extended exposition of Omar's poetry.

But in a letter quoted a little further down he ex-
plains this omission. Nevertheless, it seems rather
odd that he should have made no reference to them,
although they must have been of great help to him
in preparing his version. The fact that the article
was signed shows conclusively that FitzGerald was
quite too scrupulous in hiding from the public his
friend's great services, and there is no reason to
think that Professor Cowell would not have been
pleased to consent to his just title of being if not
the discoverer or the pioneer, yet certainly the
first English surveyor and purveyor of a wonder-
fully fertile and picturesque island in the Sea of
Unknown Literature. Cowell evidently took Omar
far too seriously, and did not approve of him ; but
still his views are extremely suggestive, and his
work deserves recognition.

xviii Introduction.

A deserved No one has apparently had sufficient curiosity to
atonement delve jnto the forgotten volumes of that out-of-the-
way journal, and the translated quatrains are here
for the first time reproduced. All readers of Omar
will be interested to compare the Cowell versions
with FitzGerald's. To place them in this promi-
nence is only a fitting atonement for the neglect
from which it has hitherto been their fortune to
suffer.

" Omar Khayyam's poems are unique in the literary
history of the world. It is not often that a great
mathematician indulges in the relaxation of verse;
one remembers Sir Isaac Newton's scorn of 'spoilt
prose,' and is apt to think of Urania as somewhat shy
Science and of familiar intercourse with her sisters. But in Omar
Poetry we have not only an example of the perfect compati-

bility of the severest studies in the exact sciences with
that play of fancy and delicacy of feeling which we
associate with the poet; this is by no means all the
marvel. We find in his verses a totally different char-
acter to that which we should have naturally expected
from the prevailing habit of thought in which he lived.
Our ' double-natured poet ' is a Janus, whose two
heads bear no similarity; the one half of his life and
experience contradicts the other.

" Was it that melancholy temperament, which Aris-
totle of old attributed to all poets and mathematicians,
being thus doubled in intensity by this twofold liabil-
ity, found its full utterance in these bitter tetrastichs, —
turning for a while from its exact and abstract studies,
with all their unreal truth,

1 Distinct but distant, clear but oh ! how cold,'

Introduction. xix

only to find in life and time enigmas still more puzzling,
and problems still more indeterminate, and uttering in
these lines its sullen protest of weariness?

'From the centre of earth to the Zenith of Saturn,
I solved all the problems of the heavens,
I leaped forth from the bonds of every snare and

deceit,
And every bond was unloosed except the bond of

Death.' [R. XXXI, p. 62.]

Every other poet of Persia has written too much. — Omar's
even her noblest sons of genius weary with their pro- conciseness
lixity. The language has a fatal facility of rhyme,
which makes it easier to write in verse than in prose,
and every author heaps volumes on volumes, until he
buries himself and his reader beneath their weight.
Our mathematician is the one solitary exception. He
has fewer lines than Gray.

" This little volume of tetrastichs, be their real num-
ber what they may, occupies its own niche in Persian
literature. For terseness of expression and vigour of
thought, we know of no epigrams like them, even in
the Greek anthology ; while for passionate earnestness
and concentrated sadness, there is nothing equal to
them, except Lucretius. The Epicurean views which
pervade them, but add a deeper gloom to the melan-
choly; we know that the gayety is unreal, and the
poet's smile is but a risus sardonicus of despair.

" All things whisper in his ear of change and decay.
The sad refrain rings ever in his hearing; everywhere
in the world he reads the record of the inscription
which Solomon, in Eastern story, gave for a signet ring,
when one asked him for a motto which would suit alike
prosperity and adversity, — ' This also shall pass away ! '

Introduction.

1 Since life is all passing, what matter Bagdad or Balkh ?
If our cup be full, what matter bitter or sweet ?
Drink wine, — for long after thee and me, yon moon
Will still fill to its full, and still waste to its wane.'

[VIII, p. 1 6.]

Or this : —

' Yon rolling heaven for our destruction, yours and
mine,
Aims its stroke at our lives, yours and mine ;
Come, love, sit on the grass, — it will not be long
Ere grass grows out of our dust, yours and mine.'

[XXIV, p. 48.]

Corporeal " This law (if one might call it so) of corporeal trans-

transmi- migration occurs again and again in his poems ; it

gration seems to jar on the poet's inmost soul, and give him a

peculiar pang. Elsewhere he has it in a more general

shape : —

' Wheresoever is rose or tulip-bed,
Its redness comes from the blood of kings ;
Every violet stalk that springs from the earth,
Was once a mole on a loved one's cheek.'

[XIX, p. 38.]

" In this form the thought is not peculiar to the East ;
we find a very similar passage in one of Shelley's
poems : —

' There's not one atom of yon earth

But once was living man ;
Nor the minutest drop of rain,
That hangeth in its thinnest cloud,

But flowed in human vein.'

Introduction. xxi

" We will add one more of this class of tetrastichs,
before we pass on to others; in this there is a peculiar
delicacy of touch, which softens the roughness of the
original thought : —

' This flask was once a poor lover like me,
All immersed in the chase of a fair face;
And this its handle you see on its neck
Was once a hand that clasped a beloved.'

[XXXVI, p. 72.]

" The extracts which we have already quoted, will Omar no
give our readers an idea of Omar's poetry ; and per- mystic
haps they will, ere this, have recognized one of its
peculiar features. Omar lived in an age of poetical
mysticism, but he himself is no mystic. His exact
sciences kept him from the vague dreams of his con-
temporaries ; he never loses himself in the one and the
all; he plants his foot on the terra firma of to-day, and
builds on it as if it were a rock, and not a quicksand:

' Sweet blows on the rose's face the breeze of the new

spring,
Sweet down in the garden are the faces of the heart

inflamers ;
But nought is sweet that thou canst tell of a yesterday

passed ;
Come be glad, nor talk of yesterday, — to-day is so

sweet.' [Compare Whitley Stokes, XV.]

" But Omar, for all his insight, had not made the wiser
choice. The mysticism, in which the better spirits of
Persia loved to lose themselves, was a higher thing,
after all, than his keen worldliness ; because this was
but of the earth, and bounded by the earth's narrow
span, while that, albeit an error, was a groping after

Vague

mysticism

better than

Omar's

worldly

science

xxii Introduction.

the divine. There was a depth in that vague mysticism
which Omar's science had never sounded ; it sprang
from wants and feelings to which his own heart was
a stranger; and hence, though his poetry was real, and
full of passion, it moves ' cabined, cribbed, confined '
in the animal life of the senses, and seems dazzled at
any prospect beyond the grave. His very ideas of
death seemed confined to the body ; he can feel, like
Keats, ' the flowers growing over him ; ' but he rarely
looks or thinks beyond. And yet it is not always so ;
a few rare tetrastichs testify that Omar could not
always prove a traitor to his own genius, — that some-
times it overmastered his habits, and wrung unwonted
aspirations perforce from his lips : —

' Oh heart, wert thou pure from the body's dust,
Thou shouldst soar naked spirit above the sky ;
Highest heaven is thy native seat, — for shame, for

shame,
That thou shouldst stoop to dwell in a city of clay ! '

[XLIV, p. 88.]

The cause of " No wonder that gloom overshadows all Omar Khay-
his dissatis- yam's poetry ; he was false to his better self, and there-
faction fore ill at ease and sad. He was resolved to ignore
the future and the spiritual, and anchor only by the
material and tangible ; but his very insight became
blinded and misled him, and instead of something solid
and satisfying, he grasped only a ' darkness that could
be felt? We can trace the evil, running like a canker
through his life ; his pleasures, his friendships, — nay,
his very studies became blighted under its touch.

" Bernouilli could find such an intense delight in his
problems that he could say that they gave him some
idea of the happiness of heaven ; his faculties were

Introduction. xxiii

working unrestrained towards their proper object; and

pleasure, old philosophers tell us, supervenes on such

harmonious action, as a finish or bloom. But in ( >mur No internal

there was no such internal harmony ; the diviner part harmony

within him was ignored; and hence the very studies

in which his life was spent, failed to yield him solid

enjoyment.

" Had he been only a thoughtless Epicurean, we
should have looked at his poetry in a very different light.
The careless gayety of Horace never loses its charm, for
it was the spontaneous outburst of his nature. Ile
floated on life's surface, with no deep passion for any-
thing, and his poetry bears the true impress of his
character. But in Omar there was a resolute will, —
he was deeply earnest in science; and to dally with
doubt and Epicureanism was possible only where he
was not in earnest. It was this which caused the
moral jar in his character, and hence his poetry reads
to us —

' Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh.'

"We have said that Omar was no mystic, — we find Omar's
no trace of Sufeyism in his book. His roses bloom in tone of
an earthly summer, his wine is of mortal vintage; un- revelry nor.
like all other Persian poets, everything with him is real assumed
and concrete. That tone of revelry which in Hdfiz and
Jami was but a passing fashion, under which their
genius veiled its higher aspirations, — like the Pe-
trarchan sonnet in the hands of Shakespeare or Milton,
— is in Omar Khayyam the matter itself, not the form.
He turns in these quatrains from his science and astron-
omy to drown thought in the passing moment's pleas-
ures ; he seems to forget his better self in his temporary
Epicurean disguise: —

xxiv Introduction.

'• My coming was not of mine own design,
And one day I must go, and no choice of mine;

Come, light-handed cupbearer, gird thee to serve,
We must wash down the care of this world with wine.

• Come bring me that ruby in yon crystal cup,
That true friend and brother of every open heart ;

Thou knowest too well that this life on earth
Is a wind that hurries by, — bring the wine.

[XXIX, p. 58.]

' Since none can promise himself to-morrow,
Make that forlorn heart of thine glad today;

Drink wine, fair moon-faced, by the light of yon
moon,
For oft shall it look for us and find us not.

[C, p. 194.]

'What though the wine rends my veil,
While I live, I will never tear me away ;

I marvel much at the sellers of wine,
For what better thing can they buy than what they
sell? [XCV, p. 1S4.]

'The caravan * of life hurries strangely by,
Seize every moment that passes in joy ;

Why, cupbearer, mourn for the morrow of thy
friends?
Give the cup of wine, for the night hurries by.'

[XLVIII, p. 96.]

* FitzGerald's note (No. 16) regarding '•' the phantom Cara-
van " was omitted from the third and subsequent editions. It
was short and unimportant : —

"The Caravan travelling by Night (after their New Year's
Day of the Vernal Equinox) by Command of Mohammed, 1
believe."

Introduction. xxv

" A few of the tetrastichs breathe the same spirit of A spirit of
contentment which we should have expected from their content-
author's old reply to the vizier's invitations to power : — ment

' Some ruby wine and a diwdn of poems,
A crust of bread to keep the breath in one's body,

And thou and I alone in a desert, —
Were a lot beyond a Sultan's throne. [XII, p. 24]

' Of all the world my choice is two crusts and a corner,
I have severed my desires from power and its pomp ;

I have bought me poverty with heart and soul,
For I have found the true riches in poverty.

[XII, p. 24.]

' Oh my heart, since life's reality is illusion,
Why vex thyself with its sorrows and cares ?

Commit thee to fate, contented with the hour,
For the pen, once passed, returns not back for thee ! '

[LXXI, p. 138.]

" But in too many of his poems we find a settled
gloom, which stands in striking contrast to the assumed
carelessness. Omar is ill at ease within, and his in- Omar and
ternal discord reflects itself in an angry defiance of the Lucretius
world and its opinions and beliefs. Like the Roman
Lucretius, his very science leads him astray; he has
learned enough to unsettle his ancient instincts, but
not enough to rebuild them on a surer basis. In the
sublime poem of Lucretius, we see the inevitable battle
between the vague dreams of an obsolete mythology,
and the progressive certainties of physical science ; and
in the first intensity of the conflict, the iconoclasm ex-

Introduction.

tends itself beyond the idols of the old belief, to the
The idea of very bases of belief itself within the soul. The arbi-
a First trary laws and tenets of the national creed are found at

Cause variance with the discoveries of science ; the idea of

'laws of nature' slowly evolves itself, in its sublime
simplicity and universality ; and the idle causes of
phenomena, which mythology had fabricated in the
personal caprices of certain deified abstractions, melt
away of themselves like shadows in the light of morn-
ing. But under all these erroneous figments, there lay
the primitive instinct of some first cause, — the obsti-
nate, unconquerable want which no created thing can
fill ; and this remained untouched amidst the change,
as the soul when the body was shattered. But this
Lucretius did not understand ; he proceeded from the
gods of mythology to demolish the very idea of a Prov-
idence at all. The very truth which he had grasped
so firmly, that nature obeys certain unvarying laws, led
him astray ; and it was a step reserved for a later time,
to see that this grand idea is by no means at variance
with the ancient instincts of the soul, — that the laws
of nature, like any other laws, must imply a law-giver's
The superi- sanction and authority, — and that long before Greek
ority of the or Roman science, in an unlettered people whose very
Hebrew name Greece and Rome despised, ancient seers had

recognized the scientific principle, and yet at once
subordinated it to the highest truth, when they sang
of man's impotence ' to break God's covenant of the
day and of the night, that there should not be day and
night in their season.'
Omar's " Omar Khayyam's scepticism seems to us to belong to

time an age a similar phase of mental history with that of Lucretius,
of darkness He lived in an age of religious darkness, and the very
men around him who most felt their wants and misery
had no power to satisfy or remove them. Amidst the

Introduction. x.wii

religious feeling which might be at work, acting in
various and arbitrary directions, hypocrisy and worldli-
ness widely mingled; and everywhere pressed the un-
recognized but yet over-mastering reality, — that the
national creed was itself not based on the eternal
relations of things as fixed by the Creator. The re-
ligious fervour, therefore, when it betook itself to its
natural channel to flow in, — the religion of the people,
— found nothing to give it sure satisfaction; the inter-
nal void remained unfilled. Hence this fervour natu- The out-
rally turned to asceticism and mysticism ; the dervishes, come of
fakirs, and sufisofthe Mohammedan world have risen unsatisfied
by a law of the human mind; and we think that the religious
scepticism of Omar Khayyam, and similar writers, is fervour
but the result of another similar law. The asceticism
and mysticism failed in their turn to give solid peace
to the inquirer, and they were soon overlaid by mum-
meries and deceits, — the earnest enthusiasts died and
their places were too often filled by impostors ; and
Omar Khayyam is the result of the inevitable re-action. Omar the
His tetrastichs are filled with bitter satires of the result of a
sensuality and hypocrisy of the pretenders to sanctity, reaction
but he did not stop there. He could see with a clear
eye the evil and folly of the charlatans and empirics ;
but he was blind, when he turned from these, to deny
the existence of the soul's disease, or, at any rate, the
possibility of a cure. Here, like Lucretius, he cut
himself loose from facts; and in both alike we trace
the unsatisfied instincts, — the dim conviction that their
wisdom is folly, — which reflect themselves in darker
colours in the misanthropy and despair, which cloud
their visions of life.

" Lucretius, when he resolved to follow his material
science to the last, whithersoever it would lead him,
built a system for himself in his poem, or rather acted

xxviii Introduction.

as the exponent and interpreter of the Greek system,
The aim of which he had embraced. His poem on nature has a
Lucretius' professed practical aim, — to explain the world's self-
great poem acting machine to the polytheist, and disabuse him of
all spiritual ideas. Omar Khayyam builds no system,
— he contents himself with doubts and conjectures;
he loves to balance antitheses of belief, and settle him-
self in the equipoise of the sceptic (iiroxy)- Fate and
free will, with all their infinite ramifications and practi-
cal consequences ; the origin of evil; the difficulties of
evidence ; the immortality of the soul ; future retri-
bution, — all these questions recur again and again.
Omar gives Not that he throws any light on these world-old prob-
no light on lems ; he only puts them in a tangible form, conden-
world-old sing all the bitterness in an epigram. Of this class we
questions subjoin two of the more harmless, — some of the most
daring are better left in their original Persian : —

1 1 am not the man to fear annihilation ;
That half forsooth is sweeter than this half which
we have;
This life of mine is entrusted as a loan,
And when pay-day comes, I will give it back.

[LXXIX, p, 154]

' Heaven derived no profit from my coming hither,
And its glory is not increased by my going hence ;

Nor hath my ear ever heard from mortal man, —
This coming and going — why they are at all ? '

" That Omar in his impiety was false to his better
knowledge, we may readily admit, while at the same
time we find some excuse for his errors, if we remember
the state of the world at that time. His clear, strong

Introduction. x.xix

sense revolted from the prevailing mysticism, where all He detested

the earnest spirits of his age found their refuge, and sham and
his honest independence was equally shocked by the hypocrisy
hypocrites who aped their fervour and enthusiasm;
and at that dark hour of man's history, whither, out
of Islam, was the thoughtful Mohammedan to repair?

" No missionary's step, bringing good tidings, had ap-
peared on the mountains of Persia; the few Christians
who might cross his path in his native land, would only
seem to him idolaters; and even in Europe itself Chris
tianity lay stifled under an incubus of ignorance and
superstition ; Christendom came before Omar only in
the form of the First Crusade ! These things should
be borne in mind as we study Mohammedan literature.
While Arabian and Persian letters were in their glory,
Europe was buried in mediaeval darkness ; science and
learning were in their noon-tide splendour in Bagdad
and Cordova, while feudal barbarism brooded over
France and England. When we read such a life as The isola-
Sadi's, with its thirty years of adventure and travel, it tion of
is strange to mark how entirely the range of his experi- Persian
ence is confined to Asia and the Mohammedan world, literature
Almost the only one point of contact with Christendom
is his slavery under the Crusaders at Tripoli. The
same isolation runs through all the golden period of
Persian literature ; it was already fading into tasteless
effeminacy when the two Shelleys first found their way
to the court of Abbas the Great. We now proceed to Omar's
add a few of the more striking tetrastichs ; they will greatness
serve as further proofs of what we have remarked on as a poet
the author's singular position among the poets of his
country.

"None that we know of has written fewer lines, and in
none is there so large a proportion of good : — ■

X.XX Introduction.

' The spring-cloud came and wept bitterly over the
grass,
I cannot live without the arghuvân-coloured wine ;
This grass is our festal place today,
But the grass that grows from our dust, whose festal
place will it be ? [XXIII, p. 46.]

' Ask not for empire, for life is a moment,
Every atom of dust was once a Kai-kobâd or Jam-

shid;
The story of the world and this whole life of ours
Is a dream and a vision, an illusion and a breath.

[IX, p. 18.]

' When the nightingale raises his lament in the garden,
We must seize like a tulip, the wine in our hand,
Ere men, one to the other, in their foolish talk,
Say " such a one hath seized his cup and is gone ! "

' That castle, in whose hall king Bahrain drained the
cup,
There the fox hath brought forth her young and the

lion made his lair,
Bahrâm who his life long seized the deer (gor)
See how the tomb (gor) has seized him today!

[XVIII, p. 36.]

1 By the running stream and the grass, cupbearer bright

as the lamp,
Give the wine, break thy vows, and touch the lute ;
Be glad, for the running stream lifts its voice, — ■
" I am gone," it cries, " and shall never return ! "

Introduction. xxxi

■ Alas that the book of youth is folded,
And the fresh purple spring become December;

That bird of joy, whose name was youth, —
Alas I know not, how he came or is gone!

[XCVI, p. 1S6.]

' lie glad, for the moon of the Keel will be here,
All the means of mirth will soon be well, — ■
Pale is yon moon, its back bowed, and lean,
You would say it will soon sink in its sorrow.

[Last note, p. 175.]

' Kip to lip I passionately kissed the bowl,
To learn from it the secret of length of days ;
Lip to lip in answer it whispered reply,
" Drink wine, for once gone thou shalt never return ! "

[XXXV, p. 70.]

' I went last night into a potter's shop,
A thousand pots did I see there, noisy and silent ;
When suddenly one of the pots raised a cry,
" Where is the pot-maker, the pot-buyer, the pot-
seller ? " [LXXX VII, p. 168.]

In the view of reality, not of illusion,
We mortals are chess-men and fate is the player;
We each act our game on the board of life,
And then one by one are swept into the box !

[KXIX, p. 134.]

' Von rolling heavens, at which we gaze bewildered,
Are but the image of a magic lanthorn ;
The sun is the candle, the world the shade,
And we the images which flit therein.

[LXVIILp. 152.]

Introduction.

The dirge
over a
wasted life

' Last night I dashed my clay cup on the stone,
And at the reckless freak my heart was glad,
When with a voice for the moment out spake the cup,
" I was once as thou and thou shalt be as I !" '

[App. XIV, Nicolas, 404, etc.]

" We would conclude with two more tetrastichs, which
may fitly close our imperfect sketch. Omar Khayyam,
we have said, was ill-at-ease and unhappy ; his tone of
revelry and enjoyment vainly masked the aching void
within, and where shall we find a more melancholy
dirge than the following over a wasted life, with its-
knowledge and genius ? —

' If coming had been in my power, I would not have
come,
If going had been in my power, I would not go
Oh best of all lots, if in this world of clay
I had come not, nor gone, nor been at all ! '

[App. XLV, Nicolas, 450, etc.]

The dark- « And if the present was dark, darker still seemed

ness of the (he future; its darkness made even the present seem
bright !

' Ere Death raises his night attack on my head,
Bid them bring the rose-red wine.
No gold art thou, poor brain-sick fool,
That once buried, they should dig thee out again ! '

[XV, p. 30.]

" How different from the feeling of good old Izaak
Walton, when he stood by the open grave of his friend
Dr. Donne, and thought of ' that body which once was
a temple of the Holy Ghost, and is now become a
small quantity of Christian dust, — but I shall see it
re-animated ! ' "

future

Introduction.

II.

cult

. The growth of the Omar Khayyam cult, which The Omar
during the past twenty years has assumed sucli Khayyam
extraordinary proportions, resulting in Omar Khay-
yam clubs and societies, and calling for edition
after edition of the " RubaiyaV may be attributed
almost wholly to the interpretation of Edward
FitzGerald. He ingeniously wove into a life-cycle
of agnosticism a number of originally disconnected
and isolated quatrains, informing the whole with
the unity of his own personality and with the
flamboyant brilliancy of his peculiar genius. He
took the Persian's thought and the Persian's man-
ner, but made it his with just such high-handed,
modest, one might almost say unconscious, art of
lordly rapine as Shakespeare displayed toward the
predecessors whom he robbed to glorify.

There are few characters in modern literature
who stand out with clearer individuality, or whose
lives have been more transparent. This individu-
ality is largely revealed in his letters, but also in
the recollections of his friends.

Edward FitzGerald, who bore the name of Edward
Edward Purcell until he was nine years old, was FitzGerald
born at Bredfield House, an old mansion of King
James's time, not far from Woodbridge, Suffolk,
England, March 31, 1809. He was the third son
of John Purcell, who on the death of his wife's
3

Introduction.

Change of
name

father took the name and arms of FitzGerald. His
father was interested in collieries. In a letter to
Fanny Kemble, sister of his schoolmate, J. M.
Kemble, he says of his mother : " She was a re-
markable woman ... as I constantly believe in
outward Beauty as an Index of a Beautiful Soul
within, I used sometimes to wonder what feature
in her face betrayed what was not good in her
Character. I think (as usual) the lips; there was
a twist of Mischief about them, now and then, like
that in — the Tail of a Cat. Otherwise so smooth
and amiable." He speaks little of his father in his
letters: even his death, which left him comfortable
means, is dismissed in one letter with only a word.
But his mother, and her coach-and-four, were a
decided feature in his horizon.

His own vivacious humor was early shown in
his "unfailing fun and droll speeches." At the
age of twelve he was sent to King Edward the
Sixth's School at Bury St. Edmund's, where his
two older brothers were. In February, 1826, he
His friends was entered at Trinity College, Cambridge. Many
of his later friends and acquaintances — the
Baconian, James Speckling, W. M. Thackeray,
Archdeacon Allen, W. H. Thompson, Master of
Trinity; and the Tennysons — were contempo-
raries of his at the University.

FitzGerald passed through his course in a leis-
urely way, amusing himself with music, drawing,
and poetry, for all of which he had natural gifts:
when graduation drew nigh, he had some fears that
he might fail to pass. After taking his degree, he
went, in the spring of 1830, to Paris, where his aunt,

Introduction. xxxv

Miss Purcell, lived. Fourteen years before, his
father's family had been settled at St. Germains,
and had afterwards occupied the house in which
Robespierre once lived.

In May he wrote his friend Allen : "I start for Becoming a
England in a week. ... I cannot stand seeing recluse
new faces in the polite circles. You must know I
am going to become a great bear: and have got all
sorts of Utopian ideas into my head about society:
these may all be very absurd, but I try the experi-
ment on myself, so I can do no great hurt."

Thus early began to show itself that shyness
which caused Cowell to say of him that he was " very
much of a recluse," though he hastens to add that the
" vein of misanthropy " which he showed toward men
in the abstract was "joined to a tenderhearted sym-
pathy for the actual men and women around him."

In November of that year he was at lonely Verses from
Naseby, where his father owned a large estate, in- his first
eluding the famous battlefield. Here he is sup- Published
posed to have written his first published verses, — P°em
the quaint old-fashioned poem which appeared in
Hone's Year Book for April 30, 1831 : —

" 'T is a dull sight

To see the year dying,
When winter winds

Set the yellow wood sighing:
Sighing, oh ! sighing.

" When such a time cometh,
I do retire
Into an old room
Beside a bright fire :
Oh, pile a bright fire!

XXXVI

Introduction.

" And there I sit

Reading old things,
Of knights and lorn damsels,
While the wind sings —
Oh, drearily sings !

" Then with an old friend
I talk of our youth —
How 't was gladsome, but often
Foolish, forsooth :
But gladsome, gladsome !

" Then go we to smoking,
Silent and snug:
Nought passes between us,
Save a brown jug —
Sometimes ! "

Attributed
to Charles
Lamb

Lamb liked it: "'Tis a poem I envy — that and
Montgomery's ' Last Man ' : I envy the writers,
because I feel I could have done something like
them." FitzGerald himself liked it: "rather
homely in expression," he said, "but I honestly
profess to stick more to the simplicity of the old
poets than the moderns, and to love the philo-
sophical good humor of our old writers more than
the sickly melancholy of tlie Byronian wits." " The
Athenaeum " liked it, and copied the whole thir-
teen verses, believing them to have been Lamb's!

Twenty years later — the intervening years hav-
ing been filled with pleasant dilettanteism and
the writing of many delightful letters — he pub-

Introduction. xxxvii

lislied "Euphranor," a study of a friendship, with " Euphra-
a literary discussion, in which "the truth," says nor " pub"
FitzGerald, " is told in a Dialogue really something IS e '

1851

Platonic," conducted in part over the scene of the

Canterbury Pilgrimage. In this " chisell'd cherry
stone " is contained a description of a boat race, —
a piece of prose highly praised by Tennyson. The
next year came " Polonius," a collection of aphor-
isms, original and selected. He had before this
taken up the study of Spanish, and in 1853 he
published a free translation of six of Calderon's " Six Dra-
less famous dramas, in which, savs he, "while faith- mas from
fully trying to retain what was fine and efficient," Calderon"
he " sunk, reduced, altered, and replaced much ree y
that seemed not ; simplified some perplexities, and
curtailed or omitted scenes that seemed to mar the
breadth of general effect, supplying such omissions
by some lines of after narrative."

This is a very good confession of FitzGerald"s A theory of
theory of translation. In a letter to Lowell he translation
wrote : " It is an amusement to me to take what
Liberties I like with these Persians, who (as I
think) are not Poets enough to frighten one from
such excursions, and who really do want a little
Art to shape them."

It is uncertain at what time lie took up the study
of Persian, but in March, 1S82, he wrote to Mr. H.
Schütz-Wilson : —

"I must thank you sincerely for your thoughts about
Salâmân, in which I recognize a good will toward the
Translator, as well as liking for his work. ( )f course
your praise could not but help that on; but I scarce

xxxviii Introduction.

think that it is of a kind to profit so far by any re-
view as to make it worth the expense of Time and
Talent you might bestow upon it. In Omar's case it
Why Omar was different : he sang in an acceptable way. it seems,
reaches the of what all men feel in their hearts, but had not had
heart exprest in verse before : Jami tells of what everybody

knows, under cover of a not very skilful Allegory. 1
have undoubtedly improved the whole by boiling it
clown to about a Quarter of its original size; and there
are many pretty things in it, though the blank Verse
is too Miltonic for Oriental style. All this considered,
why did I ever meddle with it ? Why, it was the
first Persian poem I read, with my friend Edward
Cowell, near on forty years ago: and I was so well
pleased with it then (and now think it almost the best
of the Persian Poems I have read or heard about),
that I published my version of it in 1856 (I think)
with Parker of the Strand. When Parker disappeared,
my unsold copies, many more than of the sold, were
returned to me ; some of which, if not all, I gave ta
little Quaritch, who, I believe, trumpeted them off to
some little profit : and I thought no more of them.

"But some six or seven years ago that Sheikh of
mine, Edward Cowell, who liked the Version better
than any one else, wished it to be reprinted. So I
took it in hand, boiled it down to three fourths of
what it originally was, and (as you see) clapt it on the
back of Omar, where I still believed it would hang
somewhat of a dea \ weight. ... As to the publication
of my name, I believe I could well dispense with it,
were it other and better than it is. Put I have some
unpleasant associations with it ; not the least of them
being that it was borne, Christian and Surname, by a
man who left College just as I went there. . . . What
has become of him I know not ; but he, among other

Introduction. xxxix

causes, has made me dislike my name, and made me
sign myself (half in fun, of course) to my friends, as
now I do to you, sincerely yours,

(The Laird of) Littlegrange."

The forty years of this letter would have re- His first
moved his first Persian studies to the forties. His Persmn
interest in it certainly began then, for in 1846 he
wrote his friend Cowell : "Your Hafiz is fine: and
his tavern world is a sad and just idea. ... It
would be a good work to give us some of the good
things of Hafiz and the Persians: of bulbuls and
ghuls we have had enough." In 1852 he was
reading Spanish with him. and probably soon after
took up the Persian; for in October, 1S53. he
writes : " I have ordered Eastwick's Gulistan ; for
I believe I shall potter out so much Persian." He
used Sir William Jones's Grammar. And he writes
to Professor Cowell, March 12. 1857: —

" Only to-day I have been opening dear old Salâmdn :
the original copy we bought and began this time three
years ago at Oxford; with all my scratches of Query
and Explanation in it, and the Xotes from you among
the Leaves. How often I think with Sorrow of my
many Harshnesses and Impatiences ! which are yet
more of manner than intention."

From this same letter was quoted above his creed
as to freedom of translation, and just before the
passage introduced in the note to Rubâ'iy XXXIII
he makes an interesting comparison between Hafiz
and Omar: —

Introduction.

" Old Johnson said the Poets -were the best Preservers

of a Language: for People must go to the Original to

Hafiz most relish them. I am sure that what Tennyson said to

Persian of you is true: that Hafiz is the most Eastern — or, he

Persians should have said, most Persian — of the Persians. He

is the best representative of their character, whether

his Saki and Wine be real or mystical. Their Religion

and Philosophy is soon seen through, and always seems

to me cuckooed over like a borrowed thing, which people,

once having got, don't know how to parade enough.

To be sure, their Roses and Nightingales are repeated

enough; but Hafiz and old Omar Khayyam ring like

true metal. The Philosophy of the latter is, alas ! one

that never fails in the World! 'To-day is ours," &c."

In 1857 FitzGerald was copying out some of the
Rubâiyat for Garcin de Tassy, just as Cowell had
copied them for FitzGerald, making all the more
interesting Garcin de Tassy's boast that he had the
only manuscript in Paris. He wrote Cowell : —

" Perhaps he [that is, Garcin de Tassy] will edit them.
I should not wish him to do so if there were any chance
of your ever doing it ; but I don't think you will help
on the old Pantheist, and De Tassy really, after what
he is doing for the Mantic, deserves to make the ac-
quaintance of this remarkable little Fellow."

About a fortnight later he adds ; —

" I have been for the last five days with my brother
at Twickenham ; during which time I really copied out
Omar Khayyam, in a way! and shall to-day post it as
a 'cadeau'' to Garcin de Tassy in return for his Cour-
tesy to me. I am afraid, a bad return : for my MS.
is but badly written, and it would perhaps more plague

Introduction. xli

than profit an English 'savant' to have such a present
made him."

Garcin de Tassy read some of the tetrastichs, and
found them not very difficult, the few stumbling-
blocks he attributed to the " copiste" and he pro-
posed to write for the "Journal Asiatique," an article
on it, in which he would honorably mention Cowell
and F'itzGerald. But FitzGerald hastened to de-
precate any such publicity: —

" Putting it on the ground [he said] that we do not FitzGer-
yet know enough of the matter: that I do not want aid's mod»
Cowell to be made answerable for errors which Edward est ^is-
FitzGerald may have made, and that E. F. G. neither claimer
merits nor desires any honourable mention as a Persian
Scholar : being none."

Garcin de Tassy published his " Note sur les
Rubâ'iyât de 'Omar Khaïyâm " in the "Journal
Asiatique," and afterwards in a thin pamphlet dated
at the Imprimerie impériale, 1857; but he refrained
from all mention of FitzGerald. The quatrains
which he translated into French prose, probably
the very ones which FitzGerald "pointed out to
him as the best," will be found in the Bibliography,
Appendix XLIX.

On the seventh of May, FitzGerald writes
Cowell : —

" To-day I have a note from the great De Tassy,
which announces : ' My dear Sir, Definitively I have
written a little Paper upon Omar, with some Quotations
taken here and there at random, avoiding only the too
badly sounding rubayât. I have read that paper before

xlii

Introduction.

the Persian Ambassador and suite, at a meeting of the
Oriental Society, of which I am Vice-President, the
Duc de Dondeauville being president. The Ambassa-
dor has been much pleased of my quotations.' So you
see," adds FitzGerald, " I have done the part of an ill
Subject in helping France to ingratiate herself with
Garcin de Persia, when England might have had the start ! I
Tassy gets suppose it probable Ferukk Khan himself had never
the credit read or perhaps heard of Omar. I think I told you in
of a pioneer niy ]ast that I had desired De Tassy to say nothing
about you in any paper he should write; since I cannot
have you answerable for any blunders I may have made
in my copy, nor may you care to be named with Omar
at all. I hope the Frenchman will attend to my desire ;
and I dare say he will, as he will then have all credit
to himself."

In June, FitzGerald had put away all books
except Omar Khayyam, which he says he could not
" help looking over in a Paddock covered with
Buttercups and brushed by a delicious Breeze,
while a dainty racing Filly of W. Browne's came
The para- startling up to wonder and snuff about me." Then
phrase comes the curious Latin translation of Ruba'iy

begun, iv. which is in Appendix II., and just about that

1857 time arrives an Omar MS. from Cowell, and this

seems to have determined his work. He writes
that he shall perhaps "make some notes and
enquiries" as he goes on looking them over. "I
think this MS." he says, " furnishes some oppor-
tunities for one's critical faculties, and so is a good
exercise for them, if one wanted such."

It is interesting to {rather the Omar-touches in

Introduction. xliii

his letters. On the first of July lie adds to the
same epistle : —

"June over. A thing I think of with Omar-like Roses in
sorrow. And the Roses here are blowing — and going England
— as abundantly as even in Persia. 1 am still at Gelde-
stone, and still looking at < >mar by an open window
winch gives over a Greener Landscape than yours."

And he closed the letter on the anniversary of
Lowell's departure for India, with praise of the
Calcutta Omar, comparing it favorably with the
Ouseley MS., and rather fondly clinging to his
hope that it was by Omar himself: the last word
in it is mention of his " poor Sir YV. Jones1 sort of
Parody."

Then on the third of September, 1858, he gives
the first definite information as to the " Rubâiyât":

" As to my Omar : I gave it to Parker in January, I First men-
think : he saying Fraser wras agreeable to take it. tion of the
Since then I have heard no more ; so as, I suppose, translation,
they don't care about it: and may be quite right. Had 1858
I thought they would be so long, however, I would have
copied it out and sent it to you : and I will still do so
from a rough and imperfect Copy I have (though not
now at hand), in case they show no sign of printing me.
My Translation will interest you from its Form, and
also in many respects in its Detail ; very militerai as it Very
is. Many Quatrains are mashed together: and some- unliteral
thing lost, I doubt, of Omar's simplicity, which is so
much a Virtue in him. But there it is, such as it is. I
purposely said in the very short notice I prefixed to the
Poem that it was so short because better information
might be furnished in another Paper, which I thought
you would undertake. So it rests."

xliv

Introduction.

Still weeks passed by with no satisfaction.
November he wrote : —

Fraser " As to Omar, I hear and see nothing of it in Fraser

refuses it yet : and so I suppose they don't want it. I told Parker
he might find it rather dangerous among his Divines :
he took it however, and keeps it. I really think I shall
take it back ; add some Stanzas which I kept out for
fear of being too strong; print fifty copies and give
away; one to you, who won't like it neither. Yet it is
most ingeniously tesselated into a sort of Epicurean
Eclogue in a Persian Garden."

What the

translation

rnisses

About the middle of January of the eventful
year, FitzGerald wrote Cowell : —

" I am almost ashamed to write to you, so much have
I forsaken Persian, and even all good Books of late.
There is no one now to 'prick the Sides of my
Intent ' ; Vaulting Ambition having long failed to do
so ! I took my Omar from Fraser, as I saw he didn't
care for it ; and also I want to enlarge it to near as
much again, of such Matter as he would not dare to
put in Fraser. If I print it, I shall do the impudence
of quoting your Account of Omar and your Apology
for his Freethinking : it is not wholly my Apology, but
you introduced him to me, and your excuse extends to
that which you have not ventured to quote, and I do.
I like your Apology extremely also, allowing its Point
of View. I doubt you will repent of ever having
showed me the Book. . . . My Translation has its
merit : but it misses a main one in Omar, which I will
leave you to find out. The Latin versions, if they
were corrected into decent Latin, would be very much
better."

Introduction. xlv

Two years later, Dec. g, 1861, he wrote W. H.
Thompson : —

" As to my own Peccadilloes in Verse, which never
pretend to be original, this is the story of Rubâiyât. I
had translated them partly for Cowell : young Parker
asked me some years ago for something for Fraser,
and I gave him the less wicked of these to use if he
chose. He kept them for two years without using:
and as I saw he didn't want them, I printed some
copies with Quaritch ; and keeping some for myself,
gave him the rest. Cowell, to whom I sent a Copy, Cowell's
was naturally alarmed at it ; he being a very religious alarm
Man : nor have I given any other Copy but to George
Borrow, to whom I had once lent the Persian, and to
old Donne when he was down here the other Day, to
whom I was showing a Passage in another Book, which
brought my old Omar up."

The first edition of FitzGerald's " Rubâiyât " was
published anonymously in 1859. " Nearly the
whole of this edition," says Mr. Quaritch, " I sold
(not being able to get more) at one penny each.
Mr. FitzGerald had made me a present of about
two hundred copies of the two hundred and fifty
he had printed." In 1887 Mr. Quaritch offered for
sale a single copy of the first edition, "with a few
manuscript notes," at £\ 4.?. The price steadily
increased. In November, 1894, he advertised a
single copy of this little insignificant-looking
brown-paper-covered pamphlet at £6 6s.

It is said that the late Dante Gabriel Rossetti Rossetti's
was one of the first admirers of the poem, and used propa-
to send "his pupils, the earnest young men that sandism

xlvi

Introduction.

hung upon his Chaucerian lips, to search the
boxes for hid treasures." Gradually the fame of
the Translation, which many thought to be an
original work, made its way among a limited circle .
but as yet no magazine or journal reviewed it or
called it into publicity.

He still seemed to hope that Professor Cowell
would edit Omar: he wrote him: —

" Are you not the only man to do it ? And he is

worth re-editing. I thought him from the first the most

Omar remarkable of the Persian poets : and you keep finding

the most out in him Evidences of logical Fancy which I had

remarkable not dreamed of. ... I doubt I have given but a very

Persian one-sided version of Omar : but what I clo only comes

poet up as a Bubble to the Surface and breaks : whereas

you, with exact scholarship, might make a lasting

impression of such an Author."

This was written in 1861. In 1S68 the second
edition was issued, the number of the quatrains
increased from seventy-five to one hundred and
ten; the name still sedulously repressed. It is
a common belief that FitzGerald over-elaborated
in the later editions, and injured the first sponta-
neity of his Bubbles ; he himself wrote to Pro-
fessor Cowell : " I suppose very few people have
ever taken such pains in translation as I have :
though certainly not to be literal." Yet he said:
" To correct is the Bore."
The first An article in the " Saturday Review " for Jan-

two editions uary 16, 18S6, apparently by Justin Huntly
compared McCarthy, gives a brief account of the first ver-

Introduction. xlvii

sion, and a statement of the divergencies "which
occur in the editions of this singularly interesting
poem " : —

"The treatment of the opening quatrain [it says]
does without doubt appear to justify the complaint that
the author had not the courage of his first adventure.
. . . Nothing could exceed the felicity of this cluster of
Eastern images," and Mr. Aldis Wright was called
upon to explain, if possible, under what pressure
Mr. FitzGerald " tamed down his Persian tiger-cat in
1868."

" The 'shafts ' and 'sessions ' are ineffectual indeed The first
after the heroic imagery of the original, and the poet stanza
was obliged to suppress the interesting note that ex-
plained that flinging a stone into the cup was the
signal for ' To Horse ' in the Desert.

" The second stanza in 1S59 [it goes on to say] was
not less original, and has still more completely disap-
peared. It was, however, less poetical, and we regret
it less acutely. . . . From this point the text of 1859
proceeds as we now know the poem for a consider-
able distance, save that the rose had a 'yellow cheek.'
which we distinctly prefer to her present ' sallow ' one.
So far we agree with the critics who complain of the
revision as wholly uncalled for. But at the eighth
quatrain we join issue with them. It would be unfor-
tunate indeed to be deprived of the stanza beginning,
' Whether at Naishâpûr or liabylon,' which is a little
masterpiece of melody; and in 1859 the beautiful open-
ing of the next quatrain took this far less felicitous
form : —

' And look — a thousand Blossoms with the Day
Woke, — and a thousand seatter'd into Clay.'

xlviii

Introduction.

" Nor do we carry antiquarianism so far as to per-
suade ourselves to prefer

' But come with old Khayyam, and leave the Lot
Of Kaikobâd and Kaikhosrü forgot — '

to the mellifluous

' Well, let it take them ! what have we to do
With Kaikobâd the Great, or Kaikhosrü ? '

" A little lower down the definite ' A Loaf of Bread
beneath the Bough,' of 1859, is but ill exchanged for
'A little Bread,' in 186S and onwards. We proceed,
and presently discover that the quatrain, ' Were it not
folly Spider-like to spin,' does not occur in the original
Instances edition. Among the noble series of instances of fallen
of fallen splendour we miss also 'The Palace that to Heav'n his

splendour pillars threw,' but come upon it, upon closer examina-
tion, in the notes at the end of the poem. For some
distance onwards our collation reveals no important
changes save in the sequence of the sections. Of the
following very suggestive quatrain, however, the last
line only has been preserved since 1859: —

' O come with old Khayyam, and leave the Wise
To talk ; one thing is certain, that life flies ;
One thing is certain, and the Rest is Lies ;
The Flower that once has blown for ever dies.'

" We presently reach a point where the later editions
have manifestly an advantage over the first. It is ex-
traordinary to find so halting and wooden an image as
this,—

' Another and another Cup to drown
The Memory of this Impertinence,'

Introduction. xlix

taking the place of the magnificent lines that are among
the best known in the whole poem, —

'Ah, contrite Heav'n endowed us with the Vine
To drug the memory of that insolence ! '

The central part of the poem, in which Omar Khayyam
gives the rein to his mystical and sceptical metaphysics,
is treated quite otherwise in the first and the later edi-
tions. Readers familiar with the series of curious
quatrains which form the least pleasing but not the
least original section of the work, will be inclined to
compare them with these concise stanzas, now entirely
transmuted and dissolved, in which the cynicism of the
poet was presented in 1.S59.

" The section, now unnamed and consisting of nine The Book
quatrains, which recounts the conversation among the of Pots
pots at the close of Ramazdn, is called the ' Kiiza-
Nâma,' and contains but eight quatrains in the original
edition.

"Here also the alterations add little or nothing to
the effect ; and some of the earlier phrases, such as
' surly Tapster' for ' surly Master,' and the ' clay Popu-
lation ' for ' the Shapes of Clay,' seem distinctly prefer-
able. The most curious and unfortunate alteration has
yet, however, to be noted. Few readers of the poem
will hesitate to admit that the final section, with its ex-
quisitely pathetic references to the poet's approaching
death, form the crowning charm of the whole poem.
But, as we at present possess it, it is marred by the
insertion of three stanzas — those beginning 'Would
but the Desert of the Fountain yield' — in which the
exquisite tension of style is sensibly relaxed, and in
which a more common-place order of reflection breaks
in upon the sincerity and originality of the rest. These

Introduction.

three needless quatrains repeat, with infinitely less
felicity, the sentiment of the beautiful stanza that now
follows them : —

'Ah, Love! could you and I with Fate conspire
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,
Would we not shatter into bits — and then
Remould it nearer to the Heart's Desire.'

Three It is therefore extremely interesting to discover that

interpolated these three stanzas do not occur in the first edition, and

stanzas that they are — what we might perhaps expect them to

be — an addition thrust into the poem when the brain

of the writer was no longer running with molten

bronze.

" Without this colder patch upon it, the section forms
one of the most lovely and delicate passages of recent
English verse. The last quatrain but one in 1S59 ran
thus : —

' Ah, Moon of my Delight who know'st no wane,
The Moon of Heaven is rising once again ;

How oft hereafter rising will she look
Through this same Garden after me — in vain.'

It is currently believed that the cruel reception which
Fitzgerald's ' Six Dramas of Calderon ' met with from
the Athenaeum in 1853 — a reception immediately fol-
lowed by the withdrawal of the volume from circulation
— led him to hold very lightly on publicity. He was
not surprised when the Rubâiyât also fell still-born
from the press ; and, if younger hands had not lifted it
from neglect, it is unlikely that he would ever have re-
A free vived it. His theory of translation was a very free one,

theory of and justified only by complete poetical success. It
translation was perfectly pardonable that a reviewer who demanded

Introduction. li

exact fidelity to the text of his original should exclaim
against a translator who took Sir John Denham's plea
for license so literally. But it is not as a translation
that the English-speaking people have accepted the
Rubâiyât into their literature, — it is as an original
poem ; and in thus comparing the first edition of this
important work with the second, we have thought it as
needless to inquire what relation either version bears
to the text of Omar Khayyam as it would he to tie
Marlowe down to the very language of Musaeus. In
the one case and the other, the paraphrase possesses
merits which render it of greater importance than the
original."

In England the second edition of the " Ru- Professor
bâiyât" attracted scarcely more attention than Norton's
the princeps had clone : it was Mr. Charles Eliot review
Norton who first gave due credit to the merits
of FitzGerald's version. In the " North American
Review" for October. 1869, he wrote an extended
notice of Nicolas and of Edition IE He was keen
enough to see that there might be more than one
way to interpret Khayyam's quatrains; he asks:

" May it not be that there are two sides to Omar's
shield, — one of mystic gold, the other of plain silver?"

One or two passages from this review may be
with propriety quoted here : —

" But whatever allowance be required for the sensual The deli-
side of Omar's character, his quatrains give proof of cacy and
the delicacy no less than of the strength of his poetic strength of
nature, of the subtilty no less than of the elevation of his poetic
his thought. ... If we interpret some of Omar's qua- nature

lii

Introduction.

trains mystically, we find him sometimes seeking satis-
faction in pantheistic abstractions, in efforts toward
communion with, and absorption in, the Divine, and
sometimes betaking himself to atheistic speculations,
and admitting no other guiding principle in the uni-
His manly verse than a blind, impartial fate. But, perplexed or
inde- battled as he may be, he maintains a manly indepen-

pendence dence, and, finding nothing outside or beyond the
world to rest upon, fixes himself solidly here, and
resolves, while all things are fleeting and changing
around him, to enjoy at least the present hour, and to
make the best of the life which is his to-day, but may
not be his to-morrow. However shifting and uncer-
tain are his thoughts respecting the invisible and the
unknown, his practical philosophy does not vary, and
like the Hebrew preacher, he constantly repeats,
' There is nothing better for a man than that he should
eat and drink, and that he should make his soul enjoy
good in his labour. This also I saw, that it was from
the hand of God."

Mr. Norton then translates a number of the
quatrains from Nicolas.

Of FitzGerald, then unknown, but afterwards a
frequent correspondent, Professor Norton says : —

A perfect " He is to be called ' translator' only in default of a

paraphrase better word, one which should express the poetic trans-
fusion of a poetic spirit from one language to another,
and the re-presentation of the ideas and images of the
original in a form not altogether diverse from their
own, but perfectly adapted to the new conditions of
time, place, custom, and habit of mind in which they
reappear. It has all the merit of a remarkable original
production, and its excellence is the highest testimony

Introduction. lui

that could be given to the essential impressiveness
and worth of the Persian poet. It is the work of a
poet inspired by the work of a poet ; not a copy, but a
reproduction, not a translation, but the re-delivery of a
poetic inspiration ... in its English dress it reads liku
the latest and freshest expression of the perplexity and
of the doubt of the generation to which we ourselves
belong. There is probably nothing in the muss of Its value as
English translations or reproductions of the poetry of English
the East to be compared with this little volume in poetry
point of value as English poetry. In the strength of
rhythmical structure, in force of expression, in musical
modulation, and in mastery of language, the external
character of the verse corresponds with the still rarer
interior qualities of imagination and of spiritual dis-
cernment which it displays."

The article ends with a selection of seventy-four
out of the one hundred and ten Rubaiy.it.

The keynote of praise set by Mr. Norton was
echoed by an anonymous reviewer in Fraser's,
who in June, 1S70, wrote : —

"It would be difficult to find a more complete Professor
example of terse and vigorous English, free from all Norton's
words of weakness or superfluity. The rhythm of hi-; praise
stanzas is admirable, and that with which the poem echoed
begins may be taken as a fair specimen of the pointed
force with which he expresses himself."

Four years later, in 1872, the third edition
appeared; but not until 1873 did so intimate an
acquaintance as Carlyle discover who the anony-
mous translator was. Mr. Norton brought the

liv

Introduction.

Mr. Levi S.
Thaxter's
propa-
gandism

The

Academy's

criticism

fact to his knowledge, and gave him a copy of the
third edition. Carlyle wrote FitzGerald : —

" From him too, by careful cross-questioning, I iden-
tified, beyond dispute, the hidden ' Fitzgerald,' the
Translator ; — and indeed found that his complete
silence, and unique modesty in regard to said meri-
torious and successful performance, was simply a fea-
ture of my own Edward F. The translation is excellent ;
the Book itself a kind of jewel in its way."

Yet Carlyle, in one of his dyspeptic moods, called
Omar " the Persian blackguard ! "

Mr. FitzGerald found in the late Levi S. Thaxter
an enthusiastic admirer and propagandist. Mr.
Thaxter imported many copies to distribute among
his friends. There lies before me now a copy in
which Mr. Thaxter wrote in variants of the first
edition in violet ink and those of the second in
black ink, together with an inscription of " affec-
tionate remembrances to T. W. H." In an accom-
panying letter to Colonel Higginson he says : " The
second edition is, on the whole, the best. I think.
Mr. F. has puttered too much over the third."

The Fnglish reviewers now began to wake to
the merits of this masterpiece. For instance, the
" Academy " said : —

"Mr. FitzGerald has done what the finest textual
criticism and the most uncompromising devotion to
literal accuracy could never accomplish : he has repro-
duced the thoughts of the Persian poet in English
poetry, not merely in versified prose. Omar Khayyam
is, we believe, the only Oriental poet who has been thus

Introduction. lv

worthily represented. . . . We believe Mr. FitzGerald's
version to be unapproachable in poetic feeling, and
scarcely less in perfectness of form."

From this time forth the vogue of the FitzGerald
translation was assured, at least here in America.
The Bibliography* will give a succinct history of
the quick succession of editions. It has been the
fate of every limited edition speedily to get out of
print, and to acquire enhanced values: the Grober
edition — certainly not the most attractive — car-
rying the palm of fancy price.

Mr. FitzGerald himself lived to see the grain of FitzGer-
mustard-seed just beginning that growth into a aid's un-
tree large enough for the birds of the air to build eventful
thereon. His life was passed uneventfully. He
never cared to travel. He had the " London dis-
gust" in a pronounced form. He was fond of the
sea, and spent much time cruising in a little yacht,
which he named the Scandal, because " that was
the staple product of Woodbridge." He also
owned a share in a herring-lugger named " Meum
& Timm," the stern-board of which now belongs
to the Omar Khayyam Club of London. It would His eccen-
be interesting to give a full picture of "Old Fitz " tricities
and all his eccentricities of dress and manner.
He said of his family : " We are all mad, but with
this difference, — / know I am!" In 1866 he
wrote: "If I were conscious of being steadfast
and good-humoured enough, I would marry to-mor-
row. But a humorist is best by himself." Bernard

* Appendix X I. IX.

lvi Introduction.

Barton, the Quaker Poet, when on his death-bed
asked FitzGerald to take care of his only daughter:
the poet married her; but the "If" in the quoted
letter proved a prophecy, and after a few years they
parted with mutual respect, FitzGerald generously
His sharing his property with her. His income is said

generosity n0{ ^0 ]iave been over ^iooo a year, but he was
always generous. Ouaritch paid him ten pounds for
his second edition : he contributed the little hono-
rarium to the fund in aid of the sufferers from the
famine in Persia. Once, hearing that a grocer was
in pecuniary difficulties, he bought his entire stock.
He is said to have had a habit, worthy of a
Rogers, of using bank-notes for book-marks, and
after his death many of them were found in the
volumes of his library. He had a unique way of
cutting the padding out of books, and binding the
remainder into a single thin volume. He preserved
manv of his favorite selections in a manuscript
which he entitled " Half Hours with the Worst
Authors." His tastes were peculiar, and he did
not hesitate in his letters to indulge in criticisms
that were almost Carlylesque in their severitv.
His misunderstood remark about the death of Mrs.
Browning drew from Robert Browning the fiery
sonnet which is not now included in any edition of
Browning's works. He liked Lever's " O'Dowd
Essays" better than Addison. His letters are full
of his curious preferences in art and music and
literature. Mrs. Kemble says of him : —

" He was distinguished from the rest of his family,
and, indeed, from most people, by the possession of very

account of
FitzGerald

Introduction. lvii

rare intellectual and artistic gifts. A poet, a painter, Fanny
a musician, an admirable scholar and writer, if he had Kemble's
nut shunned notoriety as sedulously as most people
seek it, he would have achieved a foremost place among
eminent men of his day, and left a name second to that
of very few of his contemporaries. His life was spent
in literary leisure, or literary labors of love of singular
excellence, which he never cared to publish beyond the
circle of his intimate fiiends : ' Euphranor,' ' Polonius,'
collections of dialogues full of keen wisdom, fine ob-
servation, and profound thought; sterling philosophy,
written in the purest, simplest, and raciest English ;
noble translations, or rather free adaptations, of Cald-
eron's two finest dramas, ' The Wonderful Magician '
and 'Life's a Dream,' and a splendid paraphrase of
the ' Agamemnon ' of .Eschylus, which fills its reader
with regret that he should not have Englished the whole
of the great trilogy with the same»severe sublimity. In
America this gentleman is better known by his trans-
lation or adaptation (how much more of it is his own
than the author's I should like to know if I were Irish)
of ( >mar Khay'am, the astronomer-poet of Persia. . . .

"While these were Edward FitzGerald's studies and
pursuits, he led a curious life of almost entire estrange-
ment from society, preferring the company of rough
sailors and fishermen of the Suffolk coast to that of
lettered folk. He lived with them in the most friendly
intimacy, helping them in their sea ventures, and cruis-
ing about with one — an especially fine sample of his
sort — in a small fishing-smack which Edward Fitz-
Gerald's bounty had set afloat, and in which the transla-
tor of Calderon and .Esehylus passed his time, better
pleased with the fellowship and intercourse of the
captain and crew of his small craft than with that of
more educated and sophisticated humanity."

lviii

Introduction.

The death
of his
boatman

His death

In 1877 liis favorite boatman died, and from that
time forth he gave up even the sea. He wrote
Professor Covvell : "I have not had heart to go on
our river since the death of my old Companion
West, with whom I had traversed reach after reach
for these dozen years. I am almost as averse to
them now as Peter Grimes. So now I content
myself with the River Side." He lived the latter
part of his life nominally at Little Grange, where
he went after his lodgings-keeper, Mr. Berry, who
weighed only nine stone, took unto himself a buxom
fourteen-stone helpmeet ; but he often visited at the
Bredfield Vicarage of his old friend Crabbe.

There it was that he died on the morning of
June 14, 1883. Mr. Crabbe found him "as if
peacefully sleeping, but quite dead." He had
written to Professor Cowell eight years previously.
" I can't say I have much care for long Life : but
still less for long Death : I mean a lingering one."
And only sixteen days before his death he wrote
one of his nieces: " It seems strange to me to be
so seemingly alert — certainly, alive — amid such
fatalities with younger and stronger people. But
even while I say so, the hair may break, and the
suspended Sword fall."

After his death Mr. William Aldis Wright came
into possession of a small tin box containing cor-
rected copies of his printed works, and a letter
asking him to see that, if — though it seemed to
him unlikely — any of his works should be called for,
they might be properly reprinted. He mentioned
by name the three Plays from the Greek and

Introduction. Hx

Calderon's " Mâgico," the C. Lamb papers, and the His literary
Selections from Crabbe and his ''poor old Lowe- lesacy

stoft Sea-slang " which lie had contributed in 1S68-9
to the " East- Anglican," Not a word about the
" Rubâiyât " !

It is from the corrected copy of this fourth
edition that Mr. Wright published the fifth edition,
in the third volume of FitzGerald's "Letters and
Literary Remains." This also is taken for the
basis of the comparison in the present edition.
And it may be stated here that through the cour-
tesy of Professor Norton and Mr. French I have
been enabled to compare the reprints of the first
and second editions with the genuine originals,
thereby correcting a number of slight inaccuracies
that had crept into previous reprints. They there-
fore stand in the present volume literally correct,
even to the reproduction of typographical errors
such as the omission of note-numbers and the
like.

The Poet-Laureate on hearing of FitzGerald's
death wrote to the late Sir Frederick Pollock :

" I had no truer friend : he was one of the kindliest
of men, and I have never known one of so fine and
delicate a wit. I had written a poem to him the last
week, a dedication, which he will never see."

The poem was the proem to "Tiresias." It
contains some interesting references, and the praise
of the " Rubâiyât " is echoed by every reader of
the work : —

Introduction.

To E. FitzGerald.

Tennyson's

dedicatory

poem

A golden
Eastern lay

Old Fitz, who from your suburb grange,

Where once I tarried for a while,
Glance at the wheeling Orb of change,

And greet it with a kindly smile ;
Whom yet I see as there you sit

Beneath your sheltering garden-tree,
And watch your doves about you flit,

And plant on shoulder, hand and knee,
Or on your head their rosy feet,

As if they knew your diet spares
Whatever moved in that full sheet

Let down to Peter at his prayers ;
Who live on milk and meal and grass;

And once for ten long weeks I tried
Your table of Pythagoras,

And seem'd at first ' a thing enskied '
(As Shakespeare has it) airy-light

To Unat above the ways of men,
Then fell from that half-spiritual height

Chill'd, till I tasted flesh again
One night when earth was winter-black,

And all the heavens flash 'd in frost ;
And on me, half-asleep, came back

That wholesome heat the blood had lost,
And set me climbing icy capes

And glaciers, over which there roll'd
To meet me long-arm'd vines with grapes

Of Eshcol hugeness ; for the cold
Without, and warmth within me, wrought

To mould the dream , but none can say
That Lenten fare makes Lenten thought,

Who reads your golden Eastern lay,
Than which 1 know no version done

In English more divinely well ;

Introduction. Ixi

A planet equal to the sun

Which cast it, that large infidel
Your Uniar; ami your Omar drew

Lull-handed plaudits from our best
In modern letters, ami from two,

Old friends outvaluing all the rest,
Two voices heard on earth no more ;

But we old friends are still alive,
And I am nearing seventy-four,

While you have touch'd at seventy-five,
And so I send a birthday line

Of greeting ; and my son, who dipt
In some forgotten book of mine

With sallow scraps of manuscript,
And dating many a year ago,

Has hit on this, which you will take,
My Fitz, and welcome, as I know,

Less for its own than for the sake
Of one recalling gracious times,

When, in our younger London days,
You found some merit in my rhymes,

And I more pleasure in your praise.

III.

There can be no doubt of the truth of the fre- Omar's

quently iterated statement that FitzGerald's Omar popularity

has found more readers in the United States than in the

in England. It might possibly have remained the „

• j ■ c • , n , States

prized possession ot a comparatively small number

of cultivated people, and little more than a name —

and an unpronounceable name — to the multitude,

lxii Introduction.

had it not been for an American artist who saw in
the quatrains an opportunity of graphic illustra-
tion. About a year after the death of the trans-
lator, Mr. Elihu Vedder exhibited the original
drawings, which he had completed during a visit
in Rome. They were afterwards published in a
sumptuous volume, the price of which naturally
put it out of reach of the majority of people ; but
the fame of the artist quickly made his work, and
consequently the poem which he had so genially
illustrated, a familiar subject of conversation and
Elihu of real knowledge. Hosts of readers know the

Vedder's "Rubaiyät," not by their name, but simply as the
illustrations poem illustrated by Vedder. An edition in re-
duced size, and far cheaper than the royal quarto
first published, still more widely disseminated the
knowledge of the old Persian; and the proof of his
popularity is shown in the multitudinous editions
— variorum and other — which have been called
for during the past ten years.

Westward the course of Omar's empire has
taken its way. A San Francisco weekly in 18S3
called the Vedder edition the Book of the year,
and stated that about ten copies of the ordinary
edition, and one of the édition de luxe, had been
Praise from sold in that city. A journal in Portland, Oregon,
the Pacific ten years later declared that " No literary event
since the birth of classic letters and art in the six-
teenth century is at all comparable to the discov-
ery and reincarnation of Omar by Fitzgerald."
Another passage from this same article is not
without interest : —

Introduction. Ixiii

" This Persian poet of love and wine and death and
fate sung to dull foreign ears. It is as if Hannibal had
conquered Italy and Lucretius and Horace had ap-
peared two or three centuries before they did to teach
philosophy and interpret beauty to their masters.
Only Omar teaches a deeper and surer philosophy
than either Lucretius or his Greek master, and his
verse, mocking Oriental appetite with an illusory
veil of sensuality, exhales finer and subtler spiritual
beauty than the Roman mind could conceive or the
Latin tongue express. Omar had to wait for the nine-
teenth century and the delicate interpretation of Fitz-
gerald. The two names are united beyond power of
divorcement."

Such criticism, originating so far from what is
usually considered the literary centre of our coun-
try, is a significant phenomenon. It shows how
widespread is the influence of the Omar Khayyam
cult. Mr. Andrew Lang gives us a tentative ex- Andrew
planation of the popularity of the Poet-Astronomer Lang's ex-
in these words : " The great charm of all ancient Planatlon

literature," he says, "is the finding of ourselves in

popularity
the past. It is as if the fable of repeated and

recurring lives were true ; as if in the faith, or
unbelief, or merriment, or despair, or courage, or
cowardice of men long dead, we heard the echoes
of our own thoughts and the beating of hearts that
were once our own. . . . Who could have foreseen
that Merv would one clay become a place of mo-
ment to England, or that we should be listening to
that Persian singer, and finding our dreams and
fancies anticipated in his ! He lived in the Ages
of Faith, — of Faith, Christian or Moslem, — and

lxiv Introduction.

lo, he says after the Greeks all that the Gieeks
said of saddest; the most resigned reflections of
Marcus Aurelius rise to his lips, and he repeats,
long before our day, the words of melancholy or
of tolerance which now are almost commonplaces.
That is why we listen, because the familiar say-
ings come on the wings of a strange music from
a strange place, — from the lips of Omar, from the
City of the Desert." *

The interest aroused in FitzGerald's paraphrase
could not fail to attract attention to the original
itself. Leaving out of account for the present
various sporadic attempts to render into English
verse isolated quatrains which have appeared in
Oriental or English magazines, we will give a brief
survey of more important work done by Fitz-
Gerald's successors.
The prose The first to bring out anything like a complete

version of version of Omar Khayyam was J. B. Nicolas, who
J.B.Nicolas ]iacj servecl as Premier Drogman, or Chief Inter-
preter, at the French Embassy in Persia, and
was in 1S67 the French Consul at Rescht. M.
Nicolas was also author of a manual of Franco-
Persian Dialogues, with notes on the principal
rules of Persian Grammar. His edition, "Printed
by the Emperor's Orders " at the Imperial Print-
ing Office, contains 464 Rubâiyât copied from the
Teheran lithographed edition, together with a
prose translation accompanied by an extraordinary
array of notes. It must be confessed that M.

* The Independent.

Introduction. lxv

Nicolas's versions are often flat and unsatisfac-
tory. " Nightingales, when they speak to the poet,
speak in a language appropriate to the circum-
stances," and often, if Omar has a bit of advice to
give, M. Nicolas places in a parenthesis a gratui-
tous " Le voici." Similar infelicities might be
multiplied. He is open to the severer charge of
frequent inaccuracy, and he is on the whole an
untrustworthy guide. But it must be remembered
that in France at least he was the first to work the
mine, and that apparently he was unacquainted
with previous English or German translations.

His work has the merit of generous enthusiasm,
and later translators owe him their acknowledg-
ments both for his own interpretation, and espe-
cially for the beautiful Persian text so exquisitely
printed.

M. Nicolas argues eloquently in favor of the
theory that Omar was a sufi,* and he loses no
opportunity, either in his notes or in parenthetical
interpolations, to emphasize his favorite doctrine
that the fervid addresses to his mistress are in
reality prayers to the Divinity, that the intoxica- Omar's
tion of the wine-cup, which the poet exalts into a symbolism
religion, is only the hyperbolical symbol of absorp-
tion into divine contemplation. In fact, Nicolas

* " La doctrine des soufis, presque aussi ancienne que celle
da l'Islamisme, enseigne à atteindre, par le mépris absolu des
choses d'ici-bas, par une constante contemplation des choses
célestes et par l'abnégation de soi-même, à la suprême béati-
tude, qui consiste à entrer en communication directe avec
Dieu."

lxvi Introduction.

takes a diametrically opposite view to that of Tom
Moore, who says flippantly enough : —

"A Persian's Heaven is easily made: —
T is but black eyes and lemonade."

The Mystic It certainly becomes us matter-of-fact Westerners
interpre- to be very chary of expressing an opinion as to
tation t]ie interpretation of Omar, or, indeed, any Oriental

poet. How far we are justified in following M.
Nicolas in his views of the mystic meaning of
Omar's most extravagant expressions, and in
avoiding the natural shock at their apparent
impiety by taking shelter under the word "eso-
teric," is a question. But the Gulshan-i-Rdz
says : —

" The mystic license bears three several states : —
Annihilation, drunkenness, the trance
Of amorous longing. They who recognize
These three know well what time and place
To use these words and meaning to assign."

And FitzGerald himself thus translates a similar
justification of Omar's unreproved boast of sensu-
ality. It is from Attâr : —

" Who is meet
Shall enter and with unreproved Feet
(Ev'n as he might upon the waters walk)
The Presence-room, and in the Presence talk
With such unbridled License as shall seem
To the Uninitiated to blaspheme."

Introduction. lxvii

Nothing is more unfair than to judge a poet's
life by his poems, unless it be to attribute to an
actor the character which his duties call liim to
assume. There is no inherent contradiction be- No contra-
tvveen Omar in his Algebra piously calling upon diction
Allah to help and inspire him in solving equations,
and Omar, on the occasion of his wine-cup being
overturned by a sudden breeze, improvising a
Rubâ'iy in which he charges Allah with being
drunk ! * The greater the apparent contradiction,
the greater probability of the Rubâ'iy having an
esoteric sense ; and the late Amelia B. Edwards, in Amelia B.
her review | of Vedder's Illustrations, — which, by Edwards
the way, may be considered, next to FitzGerald's,
the most inspired of all the translations of Omar, —
may be quite right in calling Omar " a sufi of
Sufis, a mystic of mystics." It does not stand to
reason that Omar, the learned astronomer, honored
at court, yet preferring the quiet life of a recluse,
and rounding out the full period of his days, should
have at the same time been guilty of breaking all
the commands of the Law.

We may, therefore, raise an issue with the Rev.
E. H. Plumtre, J who, after comparing the anony-
mous Koheleth with Omar, says : —

" The life of Omar Khayyam, so far as we know, jj. H. Plum-
did not end, as we have reason to believe that of tre's criti-
Koheleth and even of Heine did, in a return to truer cism of
thoughts of the great enigma. It will be admitted, Omar

* See Appendix I.I.

f London Academy, Nov. 29, 1884.

J Ecclesiastes, London, 1SS1.

Introduction.

however, that it is not without interest to trace, under
so many varieties of form and culture, the identity of
thought and feeling to which an undisciplined imagina-
tion, brooding over that enigma and seeking refuge in
sensual indulgence from the thought that it is insol-
The world uble, sooner or later leads. The poets and thinkers of
problem the world might indeed almost be classified according

to the relation in which they stand to that world prob-
lem which Reason finds itself thus impotent to solve.
Some there are, like Homer and the unknown author of
the ' Niebelungen Lied,' who in their healthy objectivity
seem never to have known its burden. Some, like
yEschylus, Dante, Milton, Keble, have been protected
against its perilous attacks by the faith which they had
inherited and to which they clung without the shadow
of a doubt. Some, like Epicurus himself, and Mon-
taigne, have rested in a supreme tranquillity. Some,
like Sophocles, Vergil, Shakespeare, Goethe, have
passed through it, not to the serenity of a clearer faith,
but to the tranquillity of the supreme Artist, dealing
with it as an element in their enlarged experience.
Some, like Lucretius, Omar Khayyam, Leopardi, and
in part Heine, have yielded to its fatal spell, and have
' died and made no sign,' after nobler or ignobler
fashion. Others, to whom the world owes more, have
fought and overcome, and have rested in the faith of a
Divine Order which will at last assert itself, of a Divine
Education of which the existence of the enigma, as
forming part of man's probation and discipline, is itself
The victory a material element ; of this victory the writer of the
of faith Book of Job and Tennyson present the earliest and

the latest phases. An intermediate position may be
claimed, not the less poetical in its essence because its
outward form was not that of poetry, for the writer of
Ecclesiastes, as in Later times for the Pensées of Pascal."

The

serenity
of the artist

ment of the
Rubaiyât

Introduction. lxix

Nicolas follows the Persian order and arrange- The
ment of the Rubaiyât, whereby they follow one ^rr^fe^
another not in accordance with any logical se-
quence of thought, but simply as the alphabetical
ending of the rhyming syllables chances to bring
them together. This formal informality, this de-
liberate hodge-podge of mingled wit and wisdom
and apparent impiety and complaints of fortune
and praise of wine is not without its charm: it
quite coincides with our idea of Omar relieving
the strain of his scientific studies by throwing off
as the flashes of mental and moral moods these
occasional exuberances of his genius.

It has ever been one of the delights of genius to
make itself misunderstood by mediocrity. The
Saviour frequently took pains to say things that
he knew would shock and stagger the Scribes and
Pharisees. Many a man has revelled in the reputa-
tion of being worse than he knew that he really
was. And the more one studies Omar Khayyam,
the more evident it grows that above and be-
yond the many quatrains which must necessarily
bear a mystical interpretation, there are not a
few which exhibit a bravado easily accounting
for the unfriendly testimony borne by some of
Omar's biographers in regard to his irreligious
behavior.

In some of the later appendices to the present
volume an attempt has been made to weave into
a sort of consistency a variety of Rubaiyât throw-
ing his strangely contradictory character as it were
into autobiographical relief.

lxx Introduction.

However unsafe it may be to draw conclusions
from Omar's poetic sentiments, we may read a
n«po-<ôv lesson of self-restraint in his style. We somehow

•f|\ioß\T|To\>s look to what Euripides the human calls " the sun-
irXaKas burnt steppes of the Persians " as the home of ex-

travagant metaphors and unrestrained fancies.
Omar's con- Omar had no sign of the ordinary floweriness
ciseness of his fellow-poets. Nor did he sin by exuberance

Sir William of production. Sir William Jones, in his "Essay
Jones on the Poetry of the Eastern Nations," * says :

" There is a Manuscript at Oxford, containing the
lh<es of an hundred and thirty-fii'e of the finest
Persian poets -, most of whom left very ample collec-
tions of their poems behind them : but the versifiers

* Complete Works, vol. iv., London, 1799. It is doubtful
if Sir William translated any of Omar's Rubäiydt ; but his
own "Ode Persica," beginning,

iam rosa purpureum caput
explicat. adsit amid,

is quite in the Persian poet's manner, and there are Omar
Khayydmesque touches in Number III, entitled "Altera,"
especially the lines : —

affer scyplios, et dulci ridentis men' . . .

iniuriosœ sperne fortuna

minas. . . .

sparge, puer liquidas

vini rubescentis rosas,

a > da calices novo s

ut placida madid us
oblivione perfruar.

It forms a queer marriage of Omar's thought and Horace's,
or rather Catullus's, form.

Introduction. lxxi

and mode? ate poets, if Horace will allow any such
men to exist, are without number in Persia."

Among the MSS. preserved in Berlin there is No
one containing fifteen hundred by an unknown received
Subhany, or Sabâhi, who is known to have written e
upwards of fifteen thousand Rubâîyât ! Omar's
very conciseness gives him distinction, but his
manner was not hard to imitate. It is very unfor-
tunate that there is not, and probably never can
be, a textus recepti/s of his poems, and it is there-
fore impossible to determine how many of the
twelve hundred attributed to him are his; but the
most lenient critics consider it doubtful if five
hundred ever proceeded from his pen, and more
careful scholars think the number much less.
Copyists, especially those who disapproved of his
sentiments, interpolated contradictory quatrains,
and it seems impossible to determine whether
the opposing sentiments which are often found
in juxtaposition are typical of varying moods, or
are impudent additions by alien hands.

At all events, each Rubâ'iy is a separate poem,
and, however composed, finds its place in the
manuscripts in accordance with its alphabetical
arrangement and not its content.

The late M. J. Darmesteter describes the Ruba'iy The Ru-
as a poem complete in itself, with its own unity of bà'iy, or
form and idea, and when wielded by a genuine poet luatram
unequalled in force by any other kind of Persian
verse, the repetition of the rhymes enveloping and
accentuating the silence of the third line, which is
generally left blank, producing harmonies and con-

lxxii Introduction.

trasting sounds calculated to give a peculiar relief
to the harmonies and contrasts of the idea.

M. Darmesteter also recognized the distinction
between the drinking-songs of Europe and those of
Persia. The latter, he says, " are a song of revolt
against the Koran, against bigots, against oppres-
sion of Nature and reason through the religious
law. The drinking man is for the poet the very
symbol of the emancipated man; for the mystic,
wine is still more: it is the symbol of the divine
intoxication." *
Protest It is not alone his drinking-poems which embody

this protest. Protest may be read in nearly every
stanza: protest of the free-thinker against bigotry;
protest of the fair-weighing mind against hypocrisy ;
protest of the creature against the Creator, of the
pot against the Potter, of life against Death.

FitzGerald seized upon certain phases of this
protest and made his " immortal Paraphrase " (to

* Les Origines de la Poésie persane, Paris, 18S7. II is
words are : "Le quatrain est tout un poème qui a son unité
de forme et d'idée; manié par un vrai poète, c'est le genre
le plus puissant de la poésie persane. La répercussion des
rimes, enveloppant et accentuant le silence du vers blanc, pro-
duit des harmonies et des contrastes de sons qui donnent un
relief étrange aux harmonies et aux contrastes de l'idée. . . .

" Les chansons à boire de l'Europe ne sont que des
chansons d'ivrogne; celles de la Perse sont un chant de ré-
volte contre le Coran, contre les bigots, contre l'oppression de
la nature et de la raison par la loi religieuse. L'homme qui
boit est pour le poète le symbole de l'homme émancipé ; pour
le mystique, levin est plus encore, c'est le symbole de l'ivresse
divine."

Introduction. Ixxiii

use the words of his friend Groome) the " utterance

of his soul's deepest doubts."

There is one other notable characteristic of The

Omar which may be suitably mentioned here, modesty of

That is his modesty. Once or twice indeed he Omar and

introduces his takhallus of Khayyam, or the Tent-

lators
maker, into a Rubâ'iy, as the Persian poets were

wont to do in the case of their Ghazels ; but there

is nothing manifest of that tremendous burning

personality which makes Dante stand out so

vividly in his works. If his thought were not so

concrete, it might be said that his aphorisms were

generalities.

The next man may appropriate them : the whole
modern world may echo them, and lay claim to
them as expressing our modem thought. Omar
himself is wonderfully evasive. But we remember
how he was offered wealth and position, and chose
work and retirement. This story accords well
with the inherent self-effacement that he shows in
his quatrains.

His modesty was, so to speak, contagious. Of
his best-known, though not most faithful exponent,
it has been quoted in application, —

"Of every noble work, the silent part is best."

Nicolas's preface has none of the proverbial
Gallic boastfulness. The egotistical note is lack-
ing in nearly every instance of the score of scholars
who have tried their hands at turning the Persian
into modern tongues. Nor is the one American
translator any exception : it is a temptation to

lxxiv Introduction.

quote his delightful letter disclaiming special merit
for his work, which certainly at its best is faithful,
ingenious, and poetic.

IV.

Leaving out of account the Hungarian version,

which is undated, and follows strictly the order of

Nicolas, the next attempt after Nicolas to translate

the entire work of Omar Khayyam is believed

to have been made by a German, — Friedrich

Bodenstedt.

Friedrich Friedrich Martinus von Bodenstedt was born

Mart, von April 22, 1 8 19, at the little town of Peine. He at

Bodenstedt, firgt mtentieci to adopt a mercantile calling, but the

1 fiSl

attractions of a learned career led him to the
University. He was successively at Göttingen,
Munich, and Berlin, where he devoted his attention
to modern languages, history, and philosophy.
After graduation, in 1840, he went to Moscow to
become tutor to one of the numerous Princes
Galitsin. He took advantage of his stay in Russia
to master the language, and was thus enabled to
acquaint German readers with some of the most
famous of the Russian poets. After publishing
translations from Kozlof, Pushkin, and Lermontof,
and from the beautiful songs of the Ukraina, he
went to Tiflis to take the direction of an academy,
at which he taught Latin and French. He trav-
elled extensively throughout that romantic region,
and after his return, in 184S, published several
books relating to the Caucasus. He was engaged

Introduction. Ixxv

in editorial work for several years at Trieste and
Bremen ; his Russian translations brought him to
the attention of King Maximilian, who summoned
him to Munich, where he occupied the chair of
Slavonic language and literature, and later lectured
on old English. In 1866 he took charge of the
Court theatre at Meiningen, and the following year
was raised to the nobility. In 1881 he visited the
United States. He was the founder of the " Täg-
liche Rundschau." In 1S78 Bodenstedt printed an His
article on Omar Khayyam in Spemann's annual translation
"Für Kunst und Leben." This was illustrated by of0mar
a number of character specimens of his Rubâiyât.
When the whole work, consisting of 467 stanzas,
was complete, he submitted it to the director of the
Oriental Academy at Berlin, Hofrat von Barb,
begging him to pass it through the sharpest fire of
criticism. It was cordially received by the press.
Two editions were called for during the year of its
publication, but the rapid sale did not continue, and
it was not until eight years later that the fourth
edition made its appearance.

Bodenstedt makes an attempt to classify the Boden-
Rubâiyât under several headings, such as " The stedt's
Divinity of the Poet," " The God of the Koran and classifica-
his Prophet," " Appearance and Reality," " The tion
Bounds of Knowledge," "Fate and Freedom,"
" Springtime and Love," " The Poet and his Op-
ponents," "World and Life," and " The Poet with
the Wine cup." But the classification is not very
strict, and many of those in one subdivision
might well find place in another, or be included

Ixxvi Introduction.

in the tenth chapter, which is entitled " Hetero-
geneous."

Neither was Herr Bodenstedt careful to follow
the quatrain disposition of versification. Out of
about 395 which are quatrains, only fifty-eight are
in the strict form of the Rubâ'iy, with the first two
and last lines rhyming. Some of these, however,
admirably represent the ingenious complicated
quintuple and quadruple rhymes of the original.

Bodenstedt also translated, among innumerable
other things, the Persian poems of Hafiz. His own
" Lieder Mirza Schaffy's " was perhaps his most
popular work ; some years ago it reached its 139th
thousand, and it has been translated into many
languages, even into Hebrew. He died at Wies-
baden, April 18, 1892.

Q.raf A translation of 336 Rubâiyât, thirty or more of

von Schack, which seem to have been made from the English
1878 of FitzGerald, preceded Bodenstedt's by two or

three years. The author was the learned Adolf
Friedrich Graf von Schack, a scion of a family
that prides itself on being the oldest in Germany.
Von Schack was born August 2, 1815, at Briisewitz,
near Schwerin. He studied at the Universities of
Bonn, Heidelberg, and Berlin, dividing his atten-
tion between jurisprudence and languages. In
1834 he accepted a position in the Kammergericht
at Berlin. Shortly afterward he took a long jour-
ney through Italy, Sicily, Egypt, Syria, Turkey,

Schack

Introduction. lxxvii

Greece, and Spain. On his return he entered the Graf
service of the Duke of Mecklenburg, whom he Yon
accompanied to Italy and Constantinople as Cham-
berlain and Legationsrat. In 1849 he went to the
College of the Union as Deputy (Bevollmächtiger),
and later became chargé d'affaires at Berlin, where
he studied Sanskrit, Persian, and Arabic. In 1852
he quitted the service of the State, and after living
for a time on his estates in Mecklenburg, he spent
two years in Spain, investigating the Arabic or
Moorish occupancy of that country. The result
of these studies was his Arabian Poetry and Art
in Spain and Sicily,* and his great work on the
Spanish Theatre. After 1S55 he lived in Munich,
where he wrote a large number of original poems,
as well as translations of Oriental works, including
Firdusi, Jami, and Kalidasa. Many of his works
were popular, and went through successive editions.
In 1S76 he was made hereditary Count by the
Emperor Wilhelm, and died at Rome, April 14,
1894. A number of books have been published
since his death treating of his literary activity and
his services as poet and translator. It seems to
be the general impression that Graf von Schack's
Omar is the most poetical of the German versions,
and the nearest to FitzGerald's in genius, yet it is
true that not quite fifty of his quatrains have the
characteristic Persian form.

England may claim the credit of the next and
by far the completest translation of Omar. In

* Poesie und Kunst der Araber in Spanien und Sicilien.

lxxviii

Introduction.

Edward
Henry
Whinfield,
1882, 1883

1882 Mr. Edward Henry Whinfield published a
volume of less than a hundred pages, containing
253 of the Rubâiyât rendered into the same form
of English verse which FitzGerald had made
classic. The following year he brought out an
edition containing a round five hundred, accom-
panied by the Persian text facing the transla-
tions. Of this great undertaking "The Academy"
said : —

" Though he cannot compete on equal terms
with Mr. FitzGerald as a translator of the first
excellence, Mr. Whinfield has executed a difficult
task with considerable success, and his version
contains much that will be new to those who know
only Mr. Fitzgerald's delightful selections."

The " Saturday Review " echoed this praise
with these words: —

" Mr. Whinfield's version, if less poetical, is the
more exact and scholarly ; " while a critic (Mr. C.
E. Wilson) proclaimed in a later number of " The
Academy" that " Mr. Whinfield is facile princess
as an editor and translator of Umar-i-Khaiyâm."

Mr. Whinfield, who was born in 1836, and
graduated at Magdalen College, Oxford, made his
practical acquaintance with Persian while he was
connected with the Indian Civil Service at Bengal.
He is also favorably known as one of the transla-
tors of the Gulshan-i-Raz, or Mystic Rose-Garden
of Shabistari, which he published with the Persian
text and copious notes.

Six years later Justin Huntly McCarthy, Mem-
ber of Parliament for Athlone, brought out a limited

Introduction. lwix

edition containing 466 of the Rubâiyât translated Justin
into English prose. Although somewhat promi- Huntly
nent in political life, perhaps in part through his McCarthy>
father's distinguished name, Mr. McCarthy at this
time was only about twenty-eight years of age;
not the least charm of the book is the buoyant,
almost boyish enthusiasm which permeates the
long introduction. Mr. McCarthy evidently cast
his eyes now and then on the French version of
M. Nicolas ; but whatever fault may be found with
its accuracy, or with its occasional use of strained
and affected words (as, for instance, when he ren-
ders the line, "Those mighty and pompous Lords,
so orgulous in their estates "), it must be confessed
that he has marvellously improved upon the often
stale and flat rendering of the French Dragoman
to his Majesty the Shah. Mr. McCarthy's volume
is printed in capital letters from beginning to end,
and he uses no accent marks. The capitalization,
therefore, of the Rubâiyât taken from his version
for use in the present edition is simply a matter of
taste, and he is not responsible for it. It may also
be mentioned properly here that his translations
are not numbered, but with the exception of the
first and last pages are arranged three to a page.
They are here numbered for convenience of refer-
ence : in the table the page numbering is added.

The United States, besides having furnished John
the only adequate plastic representation of Omar Leslie

Khayyam, may claim a worthy translator of the Garner>

. "* 1S8S

original in the person of Mr. John Leslie Garner,

of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. His neat little volume,

lxxx Introduction.

published in 1888, contains 152 quatrains, which he
calls " Strophes." In his preface he says-: —

" The collection might have been made much larger,
but it was deemed inadvisable, as Omar's themes are not
many, and the ever-recurring Wine, Rose, and Nightin-
gale are somewhat cloying to Occidental senses."

If Mr. Garner's book had not been out of print
and unlikely to be reissued in the same form, —
since he is engaged in making a new version, — it
would perhaps have been advisable in the selec-
tions chosen for the present edition to disregard
his rather erratic and whimsical capitalization.
This would also have been in the line of the trans-
lator's preference ; but having begun with a view
of representing the various versions practically as
they appeared, it seemed right to follow copy with
religious accuracy. If it had not militated against
the artistic appearance of the page, the same rule
would have applied to Mr. McCarthy's Rubâiydt
and the German versions. In the case of the
German versions, since it was thought wise not
to employ the German text, I did not hesitate to
follow the reformed spelling authorized by govern-
mental rescript.
Periodical It remains to say a few words about the periodi-

literature Cal literature on the subject of Omar Khayyam.
No attempt is made to furnish a complete bibliog-
raphy of this enormous mass of material. Had
the German reviews been added, the bulk of the
book would have been greatly increased. The
plan of the Bibliography embraced copious selec-

Introduction. lxxxi

tions from the books and reviews catalogued, and
it is iioped that this encyclopedic collection of
judgments will in a measure atone for the lack of
completeness, — a completeness which, however
complete, will inevitably fail of completeness !

Preparation for the English Civil Service em-
braces a knowledge of the Oriental languages, ami
it was natural that some of the Persian scholars
who entered that branch should be attracted by the
Persian poets. Triibner's Oriental Catalogue well
illustrates the literary activity manifested by her
Majesty's servants. Many articles, however, are
buried from general knowledge in the volumes of
the " Calcutta Review" and other Indian journals.
I may mention the names of P. Whalley, Whitley
Stokes, H. G. Keene, C. J. Pickering, and Mr.
Michael Kerney.

Whitley Stokes, C.S. I., C. I.E.,LL.D.,D. C.L., Whitley
was born in Dublin in 1830, graduated at Trinity Stokes,
College, was admitted to the bar at the Inner
Temple, went to India, where he rose from acting
Administrator-General at Madras to be President
of the Indian law commission and Honorary
Fellow of Jesus College, Oxford. He is princi-
pally known for his great services in the study of
Keltic literature ; but he also turned his attention
to Persian, and in 1885 published a few translations
from. Omar Khayyam.

Mr. Henry George Keene, C. I. E., was born in Henry
1825 at Haileybury, where his father, the Rev. H. George
G. Keene, Professor of Arabic and Persian, was Keene
stationed. He studied at Rugby and Oxford, and
6

lxxxii

Introduction.

fitted under his father for the Bengal Civil Service,
which he entered in 1847. He became magistrate
and collector, and examiner for the India Civil
Service. He is the author of many volumes,
including various poems written in India. After
his retirement from the service, he prepared two
articles on Omar Khayyam, one for " Fraser's," the
other for the "Calcutta Review." Both of them
were copiously enriched with metrical translations
from the " Rubäiyat." They will be found in
Appendix XLVIII.
Michael The services also of Mr. Michael Kerney, whose

Kerney work, though not his name, is known to thousands

of readers, deserve to be recognized. It was he
who furnished the admirable life of FitzGerald for
the first variorum edition of the " Rubäiyat," and
it was he who for the same memorial edition, sug-
gested by Mr. Quaritch, made metrical renderings
of fifty quatrains, — the first indeed to represent
in English the rhythm of the original Persian.
With that beautiful modesty which I have once
before remarked as characterizing Omar and his
translators, all this brilliant labor he has veiled
under the anonymity of the initials " M. K."
Mrs. H. M. The first important attempt to make an ex-
Cadell, tended exposition of Omar's poetry and philosophy

1879 as contrasted with FitzGerald's " Poem on Omar "

was the work of a woman, Mrs. Jessie E. Cadell,
who was born in Scotland in 1844, and died in
1884. When quite young she married H. M.
Cadell, an officer in the British army, and accom-
panied him to India. She made herself mistress

Introduction. lxxxiii

of Persian, and labored assiduously in the élucida
tion of Omar. The fruits of her studies were
embodied in an article modestly signed J. E. C,
which appeared in " Fraser's Magazine" for May,
1S79 (Vol. 99, pp. 650-659). The gist of the
article follows.

THE TRUE OMAR KHAYYAM.

" As very beautiful English verse, no one can doubt Fitz-
that Mr. Fitzgerald's Khayam fully deserves its fame. Gerald's
As a translation, we are less satisfied with it. While Rubâiyât
acknowledging that the translator has been on the a P°em on
whole successful in catching the sound of the Persian °mar
lines, wonderfully so in setting thoughts and phrases
from the Persian in his English verses, we contend
that this is hardly enough to satisfy us in the transla-
tion of a set of epigrams. It is a poem on Omar,
rather than a translation of his work, and its very
faults have, to English readers, taken nothing from
its charm, and added much to its popularity. Its
inexactness has allowed for the infusion of a modern
element, which we believe to exist in the Persian only
in the sense in which the deepest questions of human
life are of all time. Its occasional obscurity, too, has
rather helped than hindered the impression of the
whole. People expect obscurity in a Persian writer of
the twelfth century — even like it — as it leaves dark
corners which the mind can light up any way it pleases,
and regard what it finds there as one of the peculiar
beauties of Eastern thought. These points have less

lxxxiv

Introduction.

attraction for those who, knowing Khayam in the ori
ginal, have learnt to value him for himself.
Omar's " It is true that there are obscurities in the Persian,

meaning but they are in great part technical difficulties. ... It

is not always easy to know exactly what Khayam has
said : but that known, there is not much difficulty in
seeing what he means. . . . He may be said to stand
midway between the age of Firdusi, and that of the
great Sufi poets. He still writes the pure simple
Persian of the former, but he gives us no narrative
poetry, and occupies himself with the problems of life
and death, sin and fate, past, present, and future,
which, dealt with unsatisfactorily to Persian minds by
Mohammedan theology, gave rise to the mysticism of
Attar, Jelal-ud-din Rumi and Sâadi. He is the sole
representative of the age of free thought, which is said
to be everywhere the forerunner of mysticism. Though
he is certainly not orthodox, he seems to us more of
a doubter than a disbeliever. lie questions, mocks,
and rebels, but produces nothing positive of his own.
However, we are not in a position to say even this
with certainty. lie wrote very little, and that little
has been so mixed up with later additions as to be
difficult to recognize. What we feel most sure of
His varying reads like the product of leisure hours : his moods
moods vary, he is not always consistent ; lie will say the same

thing in two or three shapes, or will contradict himself
in quatrains which we cannot help believing to be
genuine if there ever existed a Khayam. . ."

After remarking on the various MSS. and defin-
ing the Rubâ'iy, Mrs. Cadell goes on to give vari-
ous translations which she says are "as near as
possible literal, and come from what she believes
to be the best reading of the given rubâi."

Introduction. lxxxv

First she quotes two " from Nicholas " (sic), —
that is, from the Persian original as given by
Nicolas : —

' They have gone, and of the gone no one comes hack (227)

From behind the secret veil, to bring you word ;
That matter will be opened to your need, not

prayers :
For what is prayer without faith and earnest "longing?

' Go, thou, cast dust on the heaven above us, (22s)

Drink ye wine, and beauty seek to-day !
What use in adoration ? What need for prayer?
For of all the gone no one comes again.'

" Here we have in the latter verse something very
like a contradiction of the former, certainly written in
a different mood, possibly by another hand. It is the
last which has the genuine Khayam flavour.

" Mr. Fitzgerald's No. 69 (of the 1872 edition), —

'Strange is it not? that of the myriads who,' —

is rather the expression of an idea found in many rabais
than the translation of any one, and it lacks the point.
It would be easy enough to put ' the door of darkness ' The door of
into Persian, but we have not found it there. Khayam darkness
does not stop to wonder, but he does make some prac-
tical suggestions. He says, in many shapes, ' While
you live enjoy all that is.' The ' following, which
is as close as any to Mr. Fitzgerald,' may be taken
as a specimen of the rest : —

' Of all the trav'llers on that weary road,
Where's one returned to bring us news of it ?
Take heed that here, in feigned goodness, you
Pass nothing pleasant by — you '11 not come back.'

Ixxxvi Introduction.

"... He mocks, questions, laments, enjoys; is a
person of varying moods, strong feelings, and remark-
able boldness; but he has some sort of belief at the
bottom of it all. He has no doubt about his enjoy-
ment of the pleasant things round him, while they
last. He can chafe against the sorrows of life and its
inevitable end, the folly of the hypocrites, and the
cruelty of fate ; but he never doubts the existence of
an oppressor, nor questions the reality of sorrow any

The charms more than that of death. He can feel strongly the

of nature charms of nature : —

' The day is sweet, its air not cold nor hot,
From the garden's cheek the clouds have washed the

dew;
The bulbul softly to the yellow rose
Makes his lament, and says that we must drink.'

" Again : —

' The new day's breath is sweet on the face of the
rose :
A lovely face among the orchards too is sweet ;
But all your talk of yesterday is only sad.
Be glad, leave yesterday, to-day 's so sweet.'

"This is on spring-time : —

' To-day when gladness overpowers the earth,
Each living heart towards the desert turns ;
On every branch shine Moses' hands to-day,
In every loud breath breathes Jesus' soul.'

Introduction. lxxxvii

"Here is another kind of pleasure : —

' Drink wine, for it is everlasting life ;
It is the very harvest of our youth
In time of roses, wine, and giddy friends.
Be happy, drink, for that is life indeed.'

" Of the love verses of the collection the following are Love
specimens : — quatrains

' When my heart caught thy fragrance on the breeze,
It left me straight and followed after thee.
Its sad master it no more remembers.
Once loving thee, thy nature it partakes.

' Each drop of blood which trickles from mine eye
Will cause a tulip to spring freshly up,
And the heart-sick lover, seeing that,
Will get hope of thy good faith.

' For love of thee I '11 bear all kinds of blame,
Be woe on me if I should break this faith.
If all life long thy tyranny holds good,
Short will the time from now to judgment be.

' Love which is feigned has no lust re ;
Like a half-dead fire it burns not :
Nights, days, months, years, to the lover
Bring him no rest or peace, no food or sleep.'

"Both of these last might be claimed by those who
hold the mystic interpretation of Omar's wine and love
as proof of their theory. He certainly wrote little
about love. His sense of the beauty of nature is
marred perpetually by the thought of the death and
decay in store for all.

lxxxviii Introduction.

See the morning breeze has torn the garment of the

rose.
With its loveliness the nightingale is wildly glad.
Sit in the rose's shade, but know, that many roses,
Fair as this is, have fallen on earth and mixed with it.'

" Another in much the same mood : —

'The cloud's veil rests on the rose's face still,
Deep in my heart is longing for that wine.
Sleep ye not yet, this is no time for sleep.
Give wine, beloved, for there 's sunshine still.'

Wine his " Wine is the favourite theme ; we get wearied with

favourite the constant recurrence of the praise of wine, and
theme with exhortations to drink and be drunken, through

hundreds of musical lines ; till at last, without agreeing
with those who look on it all as simply a figure for
Divine love, ' the wine of the love of God,' we come to
regard it as representing more than mere sensual
pleasure. . . . Wine parties were in fact the nurseries
of all the intellectual life of the time, which was un-
connected with religion, and did much to counteract
the dulness of orthodox Mohammedan life. So little
growth to be got in what was lawful, it was small
wonder that stirring minds turned from it ; and as in-
cluding so much else that they valued, we find these
idolising the pleasure which seemed so fertile as a
metaphor for the rest. This seems to me to account
for a good deal of Khayam's wine.

" Still there are some good quatrains which seem un-
deniably mystic, and modern explanations given in the
East point that way. . . . The reiterated 'Drink, you
will sleep in the dust,' seems to show that the wine was
something practical. ' Drink, the past clay comes not

Introduction. Ixxxix

back again;' 'time will not return on its steps ; '
'other moons will rise;' 'no one stays or returns,' —
all this would be without point if the wine were some
draught of love, or longing for the divine which might
have been enjoyed equally in any stage of being. The
same maybe said for the following: 'lam the slave
of that coming moment when the Saki says, " Take
another cup," and I shall not be able.' This moment
is the hour of death, putting an end to human pleas-
ure in whatever shape our poet cared most for it.

" Khayam's view of death is coloured by a strong dash Omar
of materialism ; whatever he may think, he talks of Khayyam's
nothing but the death of the body — a kind of materi- material
alism common enough in Eastern thought, and which view of
even its mystics never escape. . . . He refers again and death
again to burial, the washing of the body, the making of
the bier, the loosening of joints, the separation of the
members, the mixing with earth, and the return to the
elements, — being used in the course of time by
the builder and the potter to build walls, porticos, and
palaces, to make jars, jugs, and pots: the future he
contemplates with most complacency is that of return-
ing to his old haunts and old friends in the form of a
wine jug, when he is sure the wine will revive some
sort of life in him. The grievance to him of death The
is not the dim future for his soul, but rather the leav. grievance
ing of pleasant things in his mouth and by his side. of leaving
When he thinks of the future, death is no trouble to Pleasures
him : — ■

' I am not the man to fear to pass away,
That half to me better than this half seems;
God as a loan my life has given me ;
I '11 give it back when payment time shall come.

xc Introduction.

"And another, which Mr. Fitzgerald's readers will
recognise : —

Rubil'iy ' In the sphere's circle, far in unseen depths,

Xlilll. Is a cup which to all is given in turn;

Sigh ye not then, when it to thy turn comes,
Its wine drink gladly, for 't is time to drink.'

Rubä'iy
XIX.

" Of these, the first is certainly genuine, the second
doubtful. But there is very little of this strain in pro-
portion to the talk about the decay of the body and its
afterwards serving natural purposes : —

1 Whenever there is a garden of tulips or roses,
Know that they grow from the red blood of kings ;
And every violet tuft which is springing
From earth, was once a mole on some fair cheek.'

" Or this : —

Ilubâ'iy ' As I mused in the workshop of the potter

XXXVIII. I saw the master standing by his wheel;

Boldly he made covers and handles for his jars
From the head of the king or the foot of the beggar.'

"The following is found in every MS. we have
seen : —

Rubâ'iy ' To the potter's shop yesterday I went,

LXXXVII. Noisy or mute, two thousand pots I saw,

There came a sudden shout from one of them —

" Where is the potter, the seller, the buyer of pots." '

" We would call the reader's attention to stanzas 82,
83 and 87 of Mr. Fitzgerald's translation, for which
this one rubâi, beat out thin and otherwise freely dealt

Intro tl act ion. xci

with, has served as foundation. We have so far .seen Pitz-
no other rubâi we could connect with Mr. Fitzgerald's Gerald's
from S3 to 88 inclusive. . . . invention

"... No. 66 [/ sent my soul through the invisible] is
found in all the oldest MSS. we have seen in this
shape : —

' On the first day, my heart above the spheres
Was seeking pen and tablet, hell and heaven,
Till the right-thinking master said at last,
" Pen, tablet, heaven and hell are with thee." '

" No. 67 [Heaven'' s (sic) but the bosom (sic) of fulfilled
desire] is also undoubtedly genuine, and, in its Persian
form, found in every copy we have seen, with one
exception : —

' The universe is a girdle for our worn bodies,
The Oxus but a trace of our blood-stained tears ;
Hell is a spark from our senseless sorrow,
And heaven a breath from a moment of ease.'

" These translations are absolutely literal. We feel
dissatisfied with Mr. Fitzgerald's verses, fine as they
are, for in them we get some ideas the Persian lines do
not contain, and lose many that they do.

" The shadow on the darkness from which we have
come and to which we shall return, we seem to have
met with somewhere, but not in Khayam. We lose
the 'right-thinking master,' who is a striking feature
in the Persian in the one rubâi, and in the other we lose
the stupendous claim the Persian poet is making, as
well as the peculiar beauty of what he has to say of
heaven and hell.

xcii Introduction.

" After this we shall not expect much deference from
Khayam to the religious system in which he had been
educated, nor much recognition of eternal conse-
quences to follow the keeping or breaking Mohamme-
Omar's dan laws ; what we wonder at is the heed he seems

penitential to take to them after all, and the presence of a rueful
mood semi-penitent strain in some very authentic verses. It

would seem that with all his boldness he never suc-
ceeded in convincing himself that he was in the right,
and that his attitude of mind towards God, the law,
and moral obligation, was that of rebellion, not nega-
tion. Hence what we have said about Fate. One of
his main ideas is Fate's cruelty, and his most frequent
state of mind the rebellious. This is his originality ;
others have moaned and lamented, he attacks and
boldly. Fate is immutable; he says : —

' Long, long ago, what is to be was fixed,
The pen rests ever now from good and bad ;
That must be, which He fixed immutably,
And senseless is our grief and striving here.'

" In a cruder form : —

' Whether you drink or not, if you are bound for hell
you will not enter heaven.'

The " wheel " Fate appears commonly under the title of the ' wheel
of heaven " of heaven,' and the doings of the wheel are very
unsatisfactory : — ■

' The tyrannous wheel which is set on high
Has never loosed hard knots for any man,
And when it sees a heart which bears a scar,
It adds another scar to that sore place.'

Introduction. xciii

" Again : —

' Never has a day been prosperous to me ;
Never has a breath blown sweetly towards me;
And never was my breath drawn in with joy,
But the same day my hand was tilled with grief.'

" But we doubt the authenticity of these ; beside man-
uscript argument the tone is too much of a lament.
Khayam prefers to accuse the wheel of being ' un-
grateful, unfaithful, and unkindly.' In the following
he deprecates its ill-will in a whimsical style, of which
we have other specimens : —

' (J wheel, I am not content with thy turnings ;
Free me, I am not fit to be thy slave.
The fool and the unwise you favour most ;
Why not me too ? I am not overwise.'

" Fate favours fools, it is indifferent to the sighs of The
its victims, it rubs salt on wounds, it adds sore to sore, cruelty of
it delights in ruthlessly cutting short the moment when, Fate
by help of wine or love, a man has drawn in his breath
in ease ' that breath returns not.' It is fertile in devices
to cause and prolong suffering in life, and ever holds
death as a final blow over every head, — the one cer-
tainty amid the changing possibilities of both worlds.

" About the origin of things, the only fact of which
Khayam is quite sure is that they were not made to
please him.

' About existence, O friend, why fret thee ?
And weary soul and heart with senseless thought ?
Enjoy it all, pass gaily through the world:
They took no counsel with thee at the first.'

xciv Introduction.

" Far better it would have been not to have come at
all. ' If thuse who have not come only knew what we
endure from life, they would stay away.'

" Again : —

' We come with anguish, we live in astonishment,
we go with pain, and we know not the use of this com-
ing, being, and going.'

" Stronger even than the above is the following : -

' If coming had been of myself, I 'd not have come,
Or, if going was of myself, I would not go ;
But, best of all, if in this world of earth
Were no coming, no being, no going.'

No apparent " He is sad enough and we know of no outward cause
cause for for his sadness. When he speaks of his favourite
his sadness wine, he says, ' Slander it not, it is not bitter: the bit-
terness is that of my life.'. . . After this we must either
suspect him of being sad for sheer idleness, or believe
that he was oppressed by the awfulness and weariness
of life and its mystery of evil to the extent of real
suffering. . . . The pleasant thing he sings of could not
help him much, in lessening the pains of doubt, or in
softening his discontent at the hypocrisy and wrong
about him.
"He says : —

' Of the eternal secret none has loosed the knot,
Nor trod one single step outside himself.
I look from the pupil to the master,
And each one born of woman helpless see.

Introduction. xcv

' From deepest heart of earth to Saturn's height Ruba'iy

I solved all problems of the universe; XXXI.

I leapt out free from bonds of fraud and lies,
Yea every knot was loosed but that of Death.

' Of the eternal past and future, why
Discourse ? they pass our powers of wit and will ;
There 's nought like wine in pleasant hours, be sure :
Of every tangle it doth loose the knots.'

" This last has the mocking tone in which he scouted at His tone
the learned of his day who chose to discourse of the of mockery-
past and future, of which they knew so very little.
They might not unfairly retort that his wine and cup-
bearer had not saved him from the sorrows of life.
However he mocks on : it is his pleasure. He mocks
at believers and unbelievers, priests and mystics ; and
when he comes to moral responsibility, he mocks at
the God in whom he believes, as it were, in spite of
himself.

" In the following quatrain he mocks at the Moslem
Paradise : —

' They tell us in heaven that houris will be,
And also honey, sugar, and pure wine ;
Fill then the wine cup and place it in my hand,
Far better is one coin than boundless credit.'

" Here he uses the promise of the Koran as an excuse :

' We hear of houris in heaven and fountains
That will run with honey and pure wine :
If here we worship these, what is the harm,
Since at the end of time we meet the same ? '

XCV1

Introduction.

The Creator " It is no inanimate wheel of heaven which is ulti-

held respon- mately responsible for his sorrow, for he says, 'Do

sible not accuse the wheel of causing joy and sorrow, good

and evil, for verily it is more helpless than you are,'

and he holds the Creator responsible for evil as for the

rest.

' Some God has fashioned thus my body's clay ;
He must have known the acts I should perform :
No sin of mine but comes from laws of his :
What reason then for burning fires at last ? '

" He asks what is evil ? what is sin ? The law taught

him that some things were permitted, some forbidden ;

The and he asks why ? What is it that makes this action

difference right and that wrong, when there is not much to choose

between between them, and when towards both he has the same

right and natural desire, which after all seems so much more like

wrong a ijjvme command than the capricious utterances of

the Mollahs. Still sin exists; he can but rebel; he

can conquer nothing, not even peace of mind. He

says : —

' Abstain then from impossible commands.
How can the soul triumph o'er the body ?
Wine is my sin, but so is abstinence forbidden.
To sum up all, he says, " Hold the cup awry, and
spill it not."

' What are we that he should speak evil of us
And make a hundred of each one of our faults ?
We are but his mirrors, and what he sees in us
And calls good or evil that sees he in himself.' "

Mrs. Cadell then quotes FitzGerald's stanzas 78, 79,
80, and 81, and goes on : —

Introduction. xcvii

" Rebellious as Khayam certainly was, we do not
think he went as far as this. Mr. FitzGerald's stanzas
7S, 79, are a free rendering of various things scattered
through the Persian, which hardly have quite the same
meaning in their own places, those we have recently
quoted being the nearest we know to them. Khayam
has at least the grace to be miserable, not jaunty, when
he says, ' We are helpless : thou has made us what we
are — we sin — and suffer profoundly, but do not see
any way out of it.' For the 80th we find the following :

' In my path in many places thou layest snares, Rubâ'iy

Saying, I will take thee if thou put foot in one. LXXX.

No least atom of the world is empty of thy law ;
I do but obey that law, and thou callest me a sinner.'

" We think the 81st is a misconception of the meaning
of a Persian line. . . . We remember several quatrains
on repentance.

" One is as follows : —

' As this world is false, I '11 be nothing else,
And only remember pleasure and bright wine;
To me they say, May God give thee repentance !
He does it not ; but did He, I would not obey.'

" Here we have the Mohammedan notion of repent- The Mu-
ance as the gift of God, and such repentance is strong hamrnadan
on the practical side of the renunciation of evil, notion of
Khayam speaks of repentance as something outside repentance
him, but often adds that he would rebel against it if it
were given him. Another on the same subject : —

' May there be wine in my hand for ever,
And ever love of beauty in my head.
To me they say, May God give thee repentance !
Say He gives it, I '11 not do it, far be it from me.'

xcviii Introduction.

The line " The following is, we think, where Mr. FitzGerald

about for- has got his line about forgiveness. We have no no-
giveness tjon where the snake, Paradise, and blackened face

may come from ; they are not unlikely allusions, but we

do not know them : —

' Oh, Thou, knower of the secret thoughts of every

man,
O God, give me repentance and accept the excuse I

bring,
O giver of repentance and receiver of the excuses of

every man.'

"This last line Mr. Fitzgerald seems to have
read : —

' O repent ye and excuse thyself to every man ' —

a sense which we believe the Persian will not naturally
convey; but we again remark that Mr. Fitzgerald may
have had another quatrain or another reading of this.
Khayam was bold enough at times, but we do not
think he reached the point of offering forgiveness to
God for man's sins. What we have just quoted is
not bold at all, being evidently a prayer for a better
mind. Its authenticity is doubtful, however. The fol-
lowing is a more trustworthy expression of Khayam's
mood : —

' Ever at war with passion am I. What can I do ?
Ever in pain for my actions I am. What can I do ?
True thou may'st pardon all the sin, but for the
shame
That thou hast seen what I have done, what can I
do?'

Introduction. xcix

"Another: —

' Though I 've ne'er threaded thy obedience's pearl, The

And though through sin I have not sought thy face, Bodleian

Still of thy mercy hopeless am I not, quatrain
For I have never called the great One two.'

" Here he hopes for mercy, spite of sin, because he
has never attacked the unity of God.

"... In many respects Khayam contradicts precon-
ceived notions of Oriental character. Though fond
of pleasure, he was not attracted by a sensual Paradise.
He was not indifferent to death — he was not passive
under the hand of Fate, or at all remarkable for resig-
nation. He is a discovery, a light on the old Eastern
world in its reality, which proves, as do most realities,
different from what suppositions and theories would
make them."

VI.

'UMAR OF NÎSHÂPTJR.

In the "National Review" for December, 1890,
(vol. xvi, pp. 506-521), Mr. Charles J. Pickering
also makes an attempt to exhibit the real Omar:

" Of the comparatively few Oriental writers who have The mouth-
become well known in Europe, Al-Khayyâm has per- piece of
haps been the least fortunate. Ignored by D'Herbelot, modern
misrepresented and maligned by Von Hammer, and pessimism
made the mouthpiece of a purely modern pessimism
by his most successful translator, the shade of the old
Hakim, were it not long ago well lulled to sleep be-

Introduction.

neath the ancestral roses, might justly have risen in
reproach of a misbelieving and unsympathetic genera-
tion which deems itself wiser than the children of the
Dawn.
A faultless "The brilliant paraphrase of Edward FitzGerakl

English has made the name of 'Umar somewhat of a house-

poem hold word. As an English poem it is so nearly

faultless that, for those to whom its haunting music
has been a companion of years, to balance calmly its
merits and defects would be no easy task. But when
we compare it with the original, we are surprised to
find how much of the English version is original too.
. . . Among a considerable section of his Oriental
readers, as in the parallel case of Ilâfiz, and, since Von
Hammer's time, in Europe generally, 'Umar has had
to bear the character of a poetic black sheep. Follow-
ing in the track of the author of the Geschickte der
schoiien Redekünste Persiens, the translator, while invest-
ing his subject with a beauty of rhythm and phrase
that reminds us rather of the Laureate than of any
English songster, throws the sceptical side of 'Umar's
genius into still darker shadow, so that the vacillating
doubt and despondency of the Persian grow in his
A paean of hands a prean of passionate denial and defiance. It
protest would, however, be unfair to contend that for this

there is positively no warrant in the original. Lawless
and uncertain thoughts occur, but they seem rather to
be thrown out at random, stray sparks from the
furnace of a fiery spirit, ill at ease with itself, than
parts of a deliberate system of Ileinesque mockery or
of Byronic scorn. Phrases scattered here and there
throughout the Rubâ'iyât are given an emphasis and
used in a sequence their author would have been the
first to disown. . . . That his powerful and original
intellect sometimes led him to the threshold of a

Introduction. ci

broader truth, faith in which had risen on the basis
of an 'honest doubt,' which feebler minds so little
understood, seems no less certain. Few of his suc-
cessors ever rose so high. The lighter or looser A new con-
rhymes amid which these passages occur, 'like sparks ception of
among the stubble,' and whose proximity is due to Omar
that odd Eastern fashion which ranges poems accord- Khayyam
ing to the alphabetic sequence of their terminal letters,
only serve to heighten by contrast the effect of these
loftier utterances, which, if gathered together, would
yield quite a new conception of 'U mar's character and
genius.

"... It is remarkable that nearly all that is best in
the history and literature of Persia has come from
Khurâsân. That highland region, whose mountains
often rise to an elevation of twelve or thirteen thousand
feet, seems to have been peculiarly fitted to foster a
strain of hardy intellectual growth, which, grafted on
the product of the rich soil of historic Iran, was to blos-
som in strange and beautiful fertility. The Banû Bar-
mak, that premier clan of the old Guebre aristocracy
of Persia, extirpated at one fell swoop by the relentless
suspicion of the most fortunate of the Khalîfs, origi-
nated in Khurâsân. The Ahlu 's-Sâmân, the nursing The home
fathers of Persian letters, traced their ancestry to a like of Persian
source; and it was at the brilliant court of Abu Nasr, poetry
lord of Khurasan and Transoxiana, that the genius of
Master Rûdagî, the proto-poet of modern Iran, was
cultivated to an almost phenomenal activity by showers
of unstinted gold; and here it was that Persia's loftiest
and most human singer, the immortal Firdausî, was
born. 'Umar, therefore, from his cradle could not but
have been breathing a poetic air ; and his love for his
native land is testified by the Heimweh, which led him,
in the full sunshine of imperial favour, and at the apex

Cil

Introduction.

of his scientific fame, to seek retirement for the rest of
his days at Nîshâpûr."

After concisely giving a sketch of his life, the
author goes on : —

" The snatches of song which have immortalized his
name seem to have been his relaxation from the strain
Omar, of professional toil. In this he offers a striking re-

Dante, and semblance to two of the greatest poets of Europe,
Goethe Dante and Goethe, to whom the pursuit of knowledge

was the business of life, and to sing of it their recrea-
tion. A passionate devotion to natural science is char-
acteristic of all three, and in each we see a yearning
love of human sympathy, and a power of pure and lofty
friendship which reminds us of ' the antique world.'

" But from all accounts it seems, as indeed one might
gather from his verses, that 'Umar's devotion even to
science was not that of an anchorite. ' Persian chroni-
clers tell us,' says M. Nicolas, 'that Khayyam was
much given to converse and quaff wine with his
friends in moonlit evenings on the terrace of his house,
he seated upon a carpet with a Sâqî, who, cup in hand,
offered the wine to all the joyous company in turn,' —
an usage which, with the substitution of the crystal
decanter for the terra-cotta cruse and the wine-glass
for the cup of copper, still holds in Persia at the
present day . . .
Poetical " It has been suggested by Von Hammer that 'Umar's

rivalries flings at philosophy were stimulated by envy at the

fame and fortune of Amîr Mûizî, who had risen from
the position of a sipâhî ('sepoy'), or common soldier,
to be the Dichter-könig, or laureate of Malik Shah, and
' ever in his favour,' as the historian informs us. This
singer was a Sûfî mystic of undoubted sincerity, and.

Introduction. ciii

so far as can be seen from the specimens given by
Von Hammer, held opinions not widely differing from
those of 'Umar himself. One very characteristic ghazal
chants a lofty pantheism, in terms well-nigh identical
with 'Umar's own. It might be, indeed, that at mo-
ments when the doubting questioning spirit had set in,
the Khurâsânî took expressions of his famous con-
temporary in vain; and, of course, it is not impossible
that some personal rivalry between the two poets may
have existed, although such a feeling was alien to the
self-contained and independent character of the author
of the Kubifiyat.

" After all, Khayyam's mockery is more at the ex- Omar's
pense of self than of others, and his satire is evidently mockery
reserved for the pretenders to divine knowledge; e.g.,
in the last quatrain [No. 464 in the edition of Nicolas,
whose edition is constantly used in this article] he
says : —

' They who an ocean are of virtues and of wit,
By whose consummate glory are all their fellows lit,

Out of this obscure slumber find us not a way,
Tell us an old-wives' tale and fall asleep in it.'

" Elsewhere he brings out more clearly the cause of
his dissatisfaction: —

' Those who the whole world's quintessential spirit ap-
pear,
Who wing their contemplation past the crowning
sphere,
For all they know of Thee, are like the heavens
themselves :
Dizzied and in amaze, they bow the head in fear.' (120)

Man the
quintes-
sence of
the world

civ Introduction.

" He shadows forth the remedy in another passage,
where also man, as the microcosm, is termed the
quintessence (khalâsaA) of the world, and which may
help us as a clue to the meaning of many of his ambigu-
ous utterances about wine: —

' O thou, who art the Kosmos' quintessential strain,
For a brief breath let be the worry of loss and gain ;

Take but one cup from the eternal Sâqî, take,
And go forever free from the two worlds' grief and
pain.' (319)

Mystic "The thought that one draught of the mystic wine,

wine the love-passion of the Eternal, induces oblivion alike

of natural and supernatural hope and fear, is elsewhere
expressed under a different symbolism : —

' In convent and in college, synagogue and church,
Of Hell they live in fear, for Paradise they search ;

But whoso once hath known the mysteries of God
Will never let such weeds his soul's fair field be-
smirch.' (46)

"And in another quatrain the quietist doctrine is
enunciated with a still greater boldness : —

' Each heart wherein He kneads the leavening light of
love,
Whether a haunter of mosque or synagogue he prove,

In the great book of love if he his name hath writ
Is free from Hell and free from Paradise above.' (60)

" This conclusion reminds us of the beautiful legend
of Abu bin Adham, so gracefully and tenderly versified
by Leigh Hunt, —

' Write me as one that loves his fellow men/

Introduction. cv

but that 'Umar's love is rather the divine affection
which rounds all human brotherhood and charity in its
perfect orb.

"The formalism of current Orthodoxy seems to have His hatred
exercised the mind of 'Umar in no little degree, and of hypocrisy
accounts for much of his apparent irreverence, lie
frequently takes up his parable against the Pharisees
and hypocrites of his day, and their practice of making
long prayers arouses his especial dislike. To him the
humble hope that trusts and is not afraid is a truer
adoration than that which clothes itself into the garb
of liturgical forms: —

' They are gone, the travellers, and ne'er a one returns
To tell of aught beyond the mystic Veil that burns ;

Thy work were better done by espérance than prayer,
For without Truth and Hope no prayer a profit
earns.' (227)

" The above reads like the recantation of an utterance
closing with the same rime-cadence of which it is the
perfect antithesis : —

' Of all the travellers who tread the long, long way,
Has one returned for me to ask him news, I pray ?

Take care lest thou within this little inn of life
Leave aught on the score of hope ; thou 'It not re-view
the day.' (217)

" In reading the Rubâ'iyât we seem to be spectators The
of a ' life-drama,' a master-spirit's progress and de- Rubâiyât a
velopment through the clash and conflict of the eternal life drama
Yea and Nay ; not less so, though less fully expressed,
than that of Carlyle in Sartor, Shakspeare in the Son-
nets, or Tennyson in In Memoriam. When we begin

CV1

Introduction.

to trace our way through the sad jumble of thought
produced by the alphabetical arrangement of the qua-
trains, no two of which were probably more consecutive
than a pair of Greek epigrams, we cannot but be con-
Three scious of three dominant moods of mind, if not periods
moods of of mental development, — epicurean, sceptical, mystic,
mind Infinite and well-nigh imperceptible are the gradations
whereby the exhortation to mere physical enjoyment,
the joyous and thoughtless spirit of youth, pass over
into the bitter or sorrowful questioning of a soul with-
out God or hope in the world; and these, again,
through the self-abasement of conscious sin, into the
calm and deliberate utterance of trust, or the half-enig-
matical rapture of one who sees beyond the veil.

" And as every great spirit exists no less as the child
of his own age than ' for all time,' so we may consider
How in- 'Ulnar's earlier compositions to have been influenced

fluenced if not inspired by the prevailing fashion of the time,

and inspired with its princely symposiums and feasts of reason, and
not a little by the graceful wine-songs of Avicenna
(d. 1037), in whom also science blossomed into poetry:
as in his after days, grown wiser by the discipline of
intellectual defeat, he became more and more in har-
mony with that profounder cast of thought and feeling
which found, a few years later, so grand an exponent
in Jalâlu'd-dîn of Iconium, and an interpreter to the
world in Sa'adî of Shirâz. It is the remark of Von
Hammer that a sceptical era is followed no less in
nations than in individuals by a period of mystic de-
votion, and the religious revival which is its external
token and garb.

" We need not, therefore, be discouraged by the
strange ambiguity of many of 'Ulnar's utterances,
where it seems equally difficult to accept the literal or
parabolic sense. . . .

Introduction. cvii

" 'Ulnar's wine-epigram is sometimes so dark a say- Pleasure in
Ing, that for lack of an interpreter we are fain tu leave it mystifying
in its own melodious obscurity, not without a shrewd
suspicion that he, like other powerful minds, is occa-
sionally apt to take pleasure in mystifying his hearers,
and to send forth his poetic shafts, (fjcovavra œvvÎtoktiv,
without very much care as to where and who the 'un-
derstanding' may be. His friends would hold the key,
and that was enough for him.

"There is a strange and terribly audacious play of
fancy about the following, which may or may not be
figurative : —

' When I am dead, my friends, wash me with vintage
rare,
Wine and the goblet o'er me invoke in lieu of prayer ;

On Resurrection Day, if ye would seek my lair,
Look for me 'neath the dust our wine-house portals
bear.' (7)

" Elsewhere he recurs to the same thought : —

' 0 my beloved companions, hearten me with wine,
And make ye ruby red this umbered face of mine;
Wash ye with wine my corpse when I am cold and
dead
And make my coffin wood of timber of the vine.' (109)

"By comparison with the following we get a little
light : -

'TheKurân, which men use to call "the Word sub- "Mahin

lime," Kalâm," or
Not constantly they read, only from time to tim< ; Word sub-
but on the Beaker's brim is written a verse of light lime
Which men forevermore may read in every clime.' (11)

cviii Introduction.

The esoteric " According to the exoteric (zâhirî) sense, this of
interpréta- course means merely that potation is better than devo-
tion tion ; but, as the Teheran Sûfî pointed out to Nicolas,

there is another and an esoteric [bâtinî) which inter-
prets the wine-cup as the world of phenomena, brim-
ming with the love of God, and the inscription on the
lip the apocalypse of Himself in creation, which, unlike
the scrolls of mortal prophets, is ever open to those
unto whose eyes it is given to see. In another place
(196) he gives to the thought, if we may interpret it in
the above sense, a still more mystical expression : —

' Drink thou of this : it is the wine of life eterne ;
Drink ! 'tis the reservoir whence joys of youth ye earn ;

'Tis burning like the fire, yet lighteneth our face
Even like the Water of Life ; drink deeply from the
urn.'

2 Esdras, " To this passage there is rather a remarkable parallel

xiv. 39, 40 in the Jewish-Christian apocryphal Book of Esdras.
The prophet, watching under the oak-tree for his revela-
tion, has a vision of the Lord : ' Behold, he reached me
a full cup, which was full as it were with water, but
the colour of it was like fire : and I took it and drank ;
and when I had drunk of it, my heart uttered under-
standing, and wisdom grew in my breast.'

" But whatever we may think of the foregoing, there
is surely little that is enigmatical about the follow-
ing : —

' On the world's coquetry, fools, lavish not your coin,
When all her ways and windings know ye, line by
line ;
Give not unto the wind this precious life, your own,
But hasten, seek the Friend, and quickly quaff the
Wine.' (108)

Introduction.

cix

"The prevailing thought, however, of those which The doc
we would consider as the earlier quatrains is the brevity trine of
of life, and the Horatian maxim Carpe diem. It is on "Carpe
these, as indeed we might expect in a youthful poet, diem"
that 'Umar has chiefly expended the wealth of his fancy.'
A few may be adduced as fair samples of the rest : —

* Wake 1 for the morning breaks, and rends the robe of
night ;
Why sorrowful ? Rise and quaff the draught of dawn
aright ;
Drain thou the wine, sweetheart, for many a morn
shall break,
And turn her eyes to ours, and ours be lorn of light.

(255)

' The yesterday that 's gone endeavour to forget,
And mourn not for to-morrow : 'tis not risen yet ;
Root not thy hope in aught of things that come and
g°.
Be happy now, and fling not life to the winds to fret.

(334)

' A wise man unto me came in my sleep, and said :
" From whose sleep ever bloomed the rose of gladness
red?
Why wilt thou do a thing that's so the twin of
death ?
Drink, for full soon thou 'It sleep with dust above thy
head." (48)

' See how the wind of dawn has rent the Rose's robe,
How Bulbul by her beauty is filled with joy and love !
Sit in the Rose's shade, for many a bloom like this
Has out o' the dust arisen and lain with dust above.

(3/0)

ex Introduction.

' Since no one can become a surety for the morrow,
Rejoice thee now, and clear thy heart of carking
sorrow ;
Drink wine i' the light of wine, for the moon, my
Moon, shall look
For us no more, how oft the heaven she circle thorow.

(8)

' 'Tis a sweet day ; the breeze is neither hot nor cold ;
Soft clouds have laved the dust from every rose's
fold;
And to the yellow rose hi speech like ours implores
The nightingale, " One draught, and lose thy hue of
gold." (153)

' Be of good cheei", for chagrin will be infinite ;
Upon the sphere of heaven stars shall conjoin and
smite ;
The potter's clay that from thy body kned shall be
Will build the palace walls where others see the light.

' Khayyam, Time's very self 's ashamed of anyone
Who in the day of sorrow sits faint-hearted down ;

Wine do thou quaff in crystal to the lute's lament
Or e'er thy crystal bowl be shattered on the stone.

(252)

' Lay in my palm thy wine : my heart 's on fire to-day :
And fleet-foot as quicksilver, this life will not stay ;

Wake ! for the smile of Fortune is but as a dream,
Wake ! for the fire of Youth like water flows away.

(54)

Introduction. cxi

1 What time her robing purple on her the violet throws,
And morning breezes ruffle petal-folds of rose,

Wiser were he who by his silver-breasted love
Quaffs of the wine and shatters goblet ere he goes.'

(189)

" Occasionally, as in his Roman prototype, we catch A tone of
amidst this forced gaiety a tone of deeper pathos : — pathos

* 'Twere best we o'er the wine-cup gave our hearts to
glee,
And take light thought of aught that 's gone or come
to be;
And this our soul that 's lent us, prisoner as it is,
One moment from the bonds of Intellect set free.

(265)

' Ah, that the scroll of Youth so soon should be uprolled,
And Pleasure's springtide freshness wrinkle so and
fold!
That bird of joy whereon is set the name of Youth
Knows neither how it came nor whither its course must
hold. (128)

' When never a labour of ours has issue to our heart,
Wherefore should we take thought, whereto our
impulse start ?
So sit we down in sorrow and sigh in our regret,
" Too late, too late, we came, too soon must we
depart." (41)

' In this wild whirl of time that breeds the base alone,
Uncounted griefs and pangs bear I till life be done ;

My heart a rosebud shut i' the rosière of the world,
A blood-red tulip flower in time's plantation grown.'

(201)

CX11

Introduction.

Sings only " His longing for the sympathy of a kindred spirit —

for friends a tnahram i râz, a confidant of soul-secrets— which is
characteristic of all true poets, the nee recito cuiquam
nisi amicis of Horace in a deeper sense, finds expres-
sion again in the following : —

1 Falcon-like in the world of Mystery have I flown,
In hope to leave this low and reach a loftier zone ;

But for I find not here a soul for confidence,
I from that door whereby I came again am gone.' (225)

" In spite of its distinctly Sûfî flavour, this quatrain
can surely be read in a merely human sense. He has
felt for but not yet found the eternal Friend, and in
his loneliness he yearns for a brother man with whom
to share his perplexities.
The bitter- " As with Shakespeare in his middle period — that of
ness of life Timon and of Troilus — there comes a time in 'Umar's
history when the beauty of life was as apples of Sodom,
the bitterness of self-reproach a very Marah to his soul ;
a time when he could not sing as in the thoughtless
days,

' Plant not within thy soul the Shoot of Sorrow's tree,
The manuscript of joy read unremittingly,'

for the newly-awakened conscience will not be lulled,
and gives him no rest. ' When the thought of my
faults presents itself before me,' he says, ' my face
flows down with tears that are born of my heart of
fire.'

' At this wild whirl of Heaven I sorrow evermore,
And with my own base nature ever am at war;

Science avails me not to rise above the world,
Nor Reason lets me rest where no earth-noises roar.'

(273)

Introdîtction. cxiii

"To the reproaches of those who do not understand No moral
him, and accuse him of moral cowardice, he replies, — cowardice
and the humility of his answer is reflected in his style : —

' Deem not it is the world whereat I am dismayed,
Or death and soul's departure frighten with their
shade :
For that it is a fact, of death have I no fear ;
'T is that I live not well, whereof I am afraid.' (276)

" In the turmoil of self-accusation and self-excuse,
he seeks for comfort in the doctrine of determinism
which he had imbibed from childhood, and gives it a
characteristic turn: —

' That day the Steed of Heaven was saddled for the race,
Parwîn and Mushtarî sprang forth in all their grace,

In the Dîvân of Fate was my lot cast also :
How then should sin be mine, with Destiny in the
chase?' (no)

" In his perplexity, he is almost ready to reproach
the First Cause: —

' Thou before Whom the maze of sin is clear to see,
To him hath ears to hear declare this mystery :

Foreknowledge absolute of Sin's cause to conceive
In a wise man's eyes the extreme of ignorance would
be.' (116)

The

" It seems to him that if the nature of sin, its causal
power, had been present to the Infinite Consciousness, philosophy
it would never in the scheme of creation have been of the
suffered to be — an anticipation, we might almost say, Uncon-
of that 'philosophy of the Unconscious' which has scious "
proceeded from the school of Schopenhauer.
8

cxiv Introduction.

" Wearied with beating his wings against the bars
of this insoluble problem, he falls back upon a pathetic
remonstrance and lament : —

' Of clay and water hast thou kneaded me : what can I ?
Hast woven me of silk and wool to be : what can I ?

And every deed I give to life, be it good or ill,
Was written on my soul by Thy decree : what can I ? '

(268)

" Al-Khayyâm's final appeal for remission, if we may
so regard it, is not without an added interest for us as
having been the subject of one of the most daring in-
versions in literature. The following is a bald repro-
duction of 'Umar's words as they stand in the Teheran
text : —

Rubâ'iy ' O Knower of the secrets of the heart of every man,

LXXXI. Who in the hour of weakness bear'st the part of every

man,
Accept, O Lord, my penitence, and me forgiveness
give,
Thou who Forgiver and Excuser art of every man.'

(236)

"This quatrain, as Mrs. Cadell was the first to point
out, is the sole known warrant for that startling pas-
sage in Mr. Fitzgerald's poem, which has so largely
affected our conception of 'Umar: —

' Oh Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make
And e'en with Paradise devise the Snake :

For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man
Is blacken'd — Man's forgiveness give — and take ! '

Introduction. cxv

"' Khayyam was bold enough at times,' remarks the
critic, 'but we do not think he reached the point of
offering God forgiveness for man's sins.'

"The allusions in the second and third lines do
not seem to be traceable in any extant text of the
Rubâ'iyât.

" Let us now examine a few rubfciyât of the strictly Mystical
mystical class, that which we would consider character- quatrains
istic of his later and graver years. But between these
and the rest there is no hard and fast line to be drawn ;
there is no sudden conversion, but a gradually growing
conviction of eternal realities, not objectively merely,
but as existent in the Self, the individual consciousness.
This reunion of finite with infinite, the Maksad-i-Aqsâ,
or 'Uttermost Aim' of Sufic devotion, is beautifully
figured by Jalâl in one of his g/iazals, as translated most
worthily by Mr. Gibbs : —

' If to travel thou canst not avail, then journey to thine A ghazal
own heart, of Jalâl

And e'en as the ruby mine, be fired by the ray serene.

'O master, journey thou forth, away from thyself to
Thyself;
For the ore of the mine turns gold by a journey like
this, I ween.

' From sourness and bitterness here, to the region of
sweetness fare ;
For that every moon from the light of the sun is with
grace beseem'

" In his own quaint manner Al-Khayyâm gives the
thought expression : —

CXV1

Introduction.

' While on the path of Hope let no heart pass unknown,

While on the path of Presence * make a Friend your

own ;

A hundred clay and water Ka'abas are not worth

One Heart : whereafter seek, and Ka'abas leave alone.'

(15)

Omar's "As he rises in the scale of insight, his sympathies

broad widen, and he can perceive that to the true believer

liberality no faith is alien, and that variations and discrepancies
of worship, be it sincere, are less of kind than of de-
gree ; the fairest feature of the mystic school in every
age. Hinduism, which he typifies by the name of
pagoda {butkada, or idol house), and which was in his
time the object of unceasing crusades on the part of
Islam, is more than once brought by him into honorable
prominence, and is made, equally with Zoroastrianism
and with Christianity, the vehicle of his wider hope : —

' Pagoda, Ka'aba, both are temples of true service,
The bell-peal is the hymning music of true service ;

The Mihrab and the Church, the Rosary and Cross,
In truth are one and all but tokens of true service.'

(3°)

" Elsewhere, by a play upon words not unknown to
the Hebrew Scriptures, he opposes to the everlasting
light {nur) of Islam the eternal fire [nâr) of Mazdeism,
— not, surely, as Nicolas would have us suppose, ' the

* Niyâz (Hope or Aspiration) and Hazûr (Presence, the
Beatific Vision) are, respectively, the second and penultimate
stages of the Tar'iq or way of Perfection, of which the fourth
and last is Haqîqat (Truth-God) — absolute absorption into the
Divine Essence, or Nirvana.

Introduction. cxvii

fire of Hell,' unless, indeed, there be a lurking double
entendre, mischievously contrived for those profane
ones who could or would not distinguish the one from
the other, — a view quite in keeping of what we knew
of 'Umar's character: —

'Though our lot be not the roses, yet we have the thorn.

And there 's a Fire, although for us no Light be born ;

And there 's the belfry-chime and Church and Brama-

thread,

Although no Khankah* shelter or Darvîsh dress be

worn.' (253)

" This feeling is expressed as boldly in the ruââ'iy,
where he says that the worshipper, whether he be Jew
or Muslim, if only his name is written in God's great
book of Love (ô yàp Qebs àydin] ftrri), is freed alike from Spiritual
the gross pains and the grosser pleasures of the popular liberty
hell and paradise ; a sentiment strangely in opposition
to the recorded injunction of Muhammad, ' Spare not
the Synagogue of Satan.' That spiritual Liberty, whose
correlative in the moral sphere is the avrapxeia [Self-
sufficiency, independence] of Epictetus and Antonine,
is the object of his earnest longing. If haply he may
find it ?

1 The heart that Isolation's fulness doth not own
Is helpless, daily mate of her own penitent moan :

How shall true joy be hers, except the soul is free?
All else whate'er it be, is root of grief alone.' (97)

"Like Sir Henry Wotton, he can picture to himself
the blissful state of the man who is ' lord of himself
though not of lands, and having nothing, yet hath all.'

* Khankah. a Muhammadan monastery.

cxviii Introduction.

His out- Indeed, his conception has as much a Christian as a

bursts of Stoic flavour, and recalls the Sermon on the Mount as
devotion wel] as the Meditations.

' Happy the heart of him who passes life unknown,
Who never wore cashmere or lawn or lamb's-wool
gown :
Who like the Simurgh wings his flight in highest
heaven,
Who makes not like the owl 'mid ruined worlds his
moan. (140)

' In this world whoso hath but half a loaf of bread,
And in his breast a refuge where to lay his head,

Who of no man is slave, who of no man is lord —
Tell such to live in joy : his world is sweet indeed.'

(146)

" All these currents of thought meet and mingle in
one harmonious outburst of devotion, which is vigor-
ously expressed in 'Umar's truest style.

' In Faith are two and seventy Worships, great and
small,
But the worship of Thy Love will I choose before them
all;
What's Unbelief, Belief, Obedience, or Sin?
Before thee, the one Aim, let all pretences fall.' (24S)

Evil only " Here, in common with the mystics of every school,

relative he seeks to solve the riddle of evil by questioning its

existence in fact, or by assuming it to be merely rela-
tive, which, rightly seen, is swallowed up in the fullness
of the infinite Light. As to this conclusion he must

Introduction. cxix

have been helped not a little by the deterministic theol-
ogy which he had learned from the Imam Muwaffiq,
and to which he gives, as to every phase of his thought,
a characteristic expression : —

' Limned on Creation's Tablet each and all exists,
Yet evermore from Good or 111 the Pencil rests.

All that is destined must in Justice come to be,
And vain the wish that yearns, the sorrow that resists.'

(30

" From the belief that good and evil, in our sense of A dan-
the words, are banished from the Councils of Eternity, gerous
to a denial to moral distinctions of anything but a doctrine
relative existence, was but a step. This most danger-
ous doctrine, so capable of the corruptio optimi pessima,
is touched upon by J ami, the last of the great Sûfî
poets, in the proem to his exquisite allegory, Salâmân
and Absâl, as a prayer that the beatific vision may
annihilate his self-identity and» release him from the
distinction between good and evil, may make him, as
Mr. Fitzgerald well expresses it in his fine paraphrase :

' Self-lost, and conscience-quit of Good and Evil.'

" Sometimes 'Umar's rapture of contemplation car-
ries him very high, and in his tone, though not his style,
reminds us now of Shelley and now of Emerson. Take,
for example, the following : —

' Thou, Whom the whole world seeks in frenzy and fire
of mind,
Barren alike before Thee are rich and poor mankind ;
Thou 'rt mingled in all speech, and every ear is deaf,
Thou 'rt present to all men, and every eye is blind.

(204)

cxx Introduction.

' Sometime to mortal man Thou show'st Thy hidden
Face,
Sometime art manifest in Kosmic form and trace ;
And this magnificence show'st Thou to Thine own
Self,
For thou 'rt the Eyes that see, the Vision they embrace.

(443)

The Drop to the Sea's lamenting, " Separate are we."
"Rather 'tis Thou and I are all things," laughs the
Sea;
" Truly there is none other : we are God alone,
'T is but a tittle's varying sunders thee and Me." ' (365)

His humor "We should be doing injustice to 'Umar's genius

were we to omit from our view that aspect of it which
is so characteristic of the man, and singles him out
from all his fellows; that grotesque humour, so rare in
Eastern literature, which is the point he possesses in
common with Heine, and which we may almost say is
the antiseptic salt that has preserved his thought fresh
for us after the lapse of centuries. This spirit of self-
banter, which plays lightly around so many of his utter-
ances, is not quite absent from even such a topic as the
assurance of his own immortality, to which it gives
the quaintest of turns. Yet here he is evidently in
earnest : —

' The moment when I shall from death escape and flee,
And shed like leaf from bough my body from life's
tree,
With what glad heart / 7/ make the universe a sieve
Or e'er an earthly riddle sift the dust of me ! ' (266)

Introduction. cxxi

"The same spirit is noticeable in one of his potatory Enigmatical
quatrains of which it were difficult to say whether he is expressions
merely jesting or is propounding a Sûric sentiment under
a bizarre form. Like some passages already quoted, it
is of so enigmatical a character as to fairly baffle our
scrutiny : —

'When azure Dawn begins to lift her light divine,
Look in thine hand there be the wine-bowl flashing fine :

They say that Truth is ever bitter in the mouth
And by that argument the Truth must needs be Wine.'

(185)

" In the same category we might include a quatrain
in which Khayyam, after his own peculiar fashion,
reproaches Fortune's wheel : —

' Ah, Wheel of Heaven ! no guest but fears thy perfidy.*
Naked thou keep'st me stript as fish that's in the sea;
While all creation 's clad by spinning-wheels of earth,
There 's ne'er a spinning-wheel but far surpasseth
thee!' (251)

"We have seen how 'Umar speaks of Christianity: Omar and
let us see how a Muhammadan may speak of its Founder. Muhammad
Even though it be not genuine, the rubâ'iy was assuredly
written by a Muslim. The mode adopted is that of
self-remonstrance : —

' Fool, for thy fear of death and boding of surcease,
When from extinction springs a life of endiess bliss;

Soon as in 'Isâ's breath I grow a living soul
Eternal death shall leave my little life in peace.' (39)

* " Thou knovvest neither bread nor salt," — a periphrasis

for the basest ingratitude in host or guest.

cxxn

Introduction.

The
Persian
idea of
Jesus

" The quickening breath of Jesus is frequently made
a poetic figure by the Persians, and sometimes, as in
the Masîbat-nâmah of 'Attâr, the effect of its miracu-
lous exertion is described ; but nowhere, so far as we are
aware, is the spiritual significance so beautifully brought
out as in the above. We must, however, bear in mind
that, by the Persian, Jesus was regarded less as the
penultimate prophet of Islam than as the supreme
Sûfî, the master-mystic who has attained absolute iden-
tity with Deity, and who was, to all who followed in
the same path of contemplation and purity, at once a
Teacher and a Type.

"There is yet one aspect more of 'Umar's mind in
which we have not contemplated him, and this is a
very amiable one. With it let us take our leave of him,
laying at his feet our feeble tribute of admiration and
sympathy, in the hope that the circle of his true friends
and faithful interpreters may widen, and that, in his
own words, he may bind many a heart to him hereafter
in the cords of love : —

4 Tho' the world's face thou make all populous to be,
'T is far less than to bring one sorrowing heart in glee ;
If thou by graciousness but make one freeman bond,
'T is better than to set a thousand bondmen free.' " (444)

VII.

FitzGer-
ald's ingen-
ious mosaic

These protests raised by Persian scholars
against the representation of Omar which is based
on FitzGerald's poem, certainly seem to have
a basis of justification. His Rubâ'iy-sequence,
which has been well called " the highest expo-

Introduction. cxxiii

nent of Agnosticism," is not so much a graft-
ing of the effusions of Anakreon upon Lucretius,
as it is a reincarnation. Koheleth is born again in
Omar, and, after a half millennium, in Edward
FitzGerald. A Liszt takes a number of isolated
Hungarian nep or popular songs born among the
people, and weaves them into a gorgeous rhap-
sody. The isolated becomes the united. Modern
genius furnishes the simple melody with compli-
cated harmony.

But on the other hand it is also a question
whether, if it had not been for the genius of the
modern, Omar would ever have won any very
exalted place in the estimation of Europe. An
accomplished Arabic scholar, born in the East,
writes : —

" Persian is rather off my beat ; and, in my judgment, Dr. Talcott
Omar owes more to FitzGerald than he does to him- "Williams's
self, as far as English readers are concerned. I do not letter
mean by this that Omar's thought differs with the
utterances of FitzGerald's translation, but the utter-
ance owes so much in our language to the form in
which FitzGerald has cast it, that I have always felt, in
the few quatrains which I have laboriously translated,
that pretty much everything had evaporated when the
thought was taken out of FitzGerald's setting. The
truth is, in literature, form is everything. Everybody
has the same ideas, I fancy, and it is only the capacity
for expression which makes literature. . . .

" I presume you know that Omar by no means casts
the shade over his native fields which he does over
ours. Sadi and Ilafiz, especially the latter, rank far
higher. The few Persians whom I have known — and I

cxxiv Introduction.

do not think I have talked with over three or four — all
knew of Omar and had read him, but they had no
Foe enthusiasm over him. In fact, the vogue which Omar

has with us is not unlike that which Poe has in France.
As of course you know, our young French friends
think Poe is immeasurably our greatest poet, and when
they rhyme about him with an accent over the e, pro-
duce very extraordinary results ; and the Persians I
have known, when I opened on Omar acted very much
as I did when a young Frenchman congratulated me
on belonging to the nation which had produced the
amazing genius of Poe."

This correspondent adds : —

" I really cannot exaggerate the difference between
native and European knowledge of an Oriental lan-
guage. We generally know their formal grammar,
history and derivatives of their tongues especially, a
hundredfold better than they do ; but when it comes
to the meaning of a particular passage, we are simply
nowhere. It is a simple and soul-humbling truth that
the first translation or two of almost any Oriental
work is full of the wildest shot."

The actual The actual meaning of Omar's verses is now
Omar definitely established. FitzGerald's free moderni-

zation may be corrected by comparison with any
one of a dozen versions in prose and in rhyme, in
English, in French, and in German. They are
here presented convenient of access. There is no
excuse for misunderstanding the old Persian. But
however interesting we may find Omar himself
in the phases neglected by FitzGerald, however
he may rise morally above the pessimistic and

Introduction. cxxv

even nihilistic impression which FitzGerald's para-
phrase may leave upon many readers, it is after all
to FitzGerald's poem that we shall ever look.
Almost the last word of praise of that work has
been said by Algernon Charles Swinburne in a note
to his essay on Matthew Arnold's New Poems*
Mr. Swinburne says: —

" Far better than in the long literal version of Omar Swin-

Khàyyàm, which is all that the French language can burne's

show, may the soul and spirit of his thought be tasted tribute

in that most exquisite English translation, sovereignly to Fitz-

faultless in form and colour of verse, which gives to trerald
those ignorant of the East a relish of the treasure and
a delight in the beauty of its wisdom."

And in his Essay on Social Verse f he calls
FitzGerald " the man whose sly audacity of diffi-
dent and daring genius has given Omar Khayyam
a place for ever among the greatest of English
poets."

He goes on : —

" That the very best of his exquisite poetry, the Elegance,
strongest and serenest wisdom, the sanest and most distinction,
serious irony, the most piercing and the profoundest and grace
radiance of his gentle and sublime philosophy, belong
as much or more to Suffolk, than to Shiraz, has been,

* Essays and Studies, 1875. McCarthy says : "To Mr.
Swinburne Omar owes the most eloquent tribute in the Eng-
lish language, the words which are to be found in a note to the
essay on Blake." Several careful searches through the essay
on Blake text and notes failed to reveal this tribute.

t Studies in Prose and Poetry, 1S94.

CXXV1

Introduction.

if I mistake not, an open secret for many years — and
as Dogberry says, 'It will go near to be thought so
shortly.' Every quatrain, though it is something so
much more than graceful or distinguished or elegant,
is also, one may say, the sublimation of elegance, the
apotheosis of distinction, the transfiguration of grace :
perfection of style can go no further and rise no higher,
as thought can pierce no deeper and truth can speak
no plainer than in the crowning stanza, which of course
would have found itself somewhat out of place beside
even the grandest and the loftiest poem (Mrs. Barbauld's
immortal lines on life, old age, and death) admitted or
admissible into such a volume as this."

Fitz-
Gerald's
crowning
stanza

By the "crowning stanza" Mr. Swinburne means
the famous one which has so puzzled the Persian
students of Omar : —

Oh Thou who man of baser earth didst make,
And who with Eden didst devise the Snake,
For all the sin where with the face of man
Is Blackened, man's forgiveness give — and take!

Omar as
presented
by his
translators

But Omar, whether presented in the glowing,
vital, consistent splendor of FitzGerald's elegy, or
in the desultory, fragmentary, alphabetical con-
tradictoriness of Nicolas, McCarthy, and Whin-
field, or in the analytical presentation, independ-
ently made, by Professor Cowell and Mrs. Cadell
and C. J. Pickering and H. G. Keene, or in the
sympathetic grace of our American translator,
John Leslie Garner, when at his best, — old
Omar stands clearly outlined before our vision,
a figure who appeals to our love and admiration.

m science
and poetry

In ti in/ u et ion . cxxv i i

We forget the distance in time and space which
separates him from us. We instinctively feel that
if he should reappear in our clay, we should claim
him as a friend ; that, without shock of sudden
change, he would take his place in the van of our
science, as he was in the van of his own; that he Omar as
would be a leader of modern thought, as he was a leader
ahead of the thought of his contemporaries ; that
he would as well now, in a day when, however
falsely, it is often claimed that poetry is decadent,
voice the doubts and aspirations of humanity in
melodious verse, just as he in his own day, for an
audience select and few, for the world-brotherhood
of high culture, voiced all the great problems that
have puzzled the keenest minds since the begin-
ning of civilization.

It has been thought by some that the interest The
in Omar Khayyam, which is now so widespread, °mar cult
is only ephemeral ; the contrary is true, for there no a
is a constantly increasing number of thinkers to
whom Omar's utterances appeal as the clearest
expression of their own half-melancholy, half-
jocular, but wholly serene and trustful views of
life and of the future.

It was part of the original design of this edition The com-

of Omar Khayyam to include a large number of parative

comparative excerpts from earlier and later au- literature

thors, giving as it were a synoptic digest of the

. ,. ö r . : T . ° . . cism

poetic literature of agnosticism. It is surprising

to see how far it extends back into the dim ages

of antiquity, running like a sombre thread along

with the lofty dignity of Job. forming a pathetic

cxxviii Introduction.

minor amid the grand major chords of the Psalms,
cropping out in the books of the Apocrypha, *

* An interesting example of Apocryphal anticipation of
Omar is found in chapter ii. of the " Wisdom of Solomon " :

" i For the ungodly said, reasoning with themselves, but not
aright, Our life is short and tedious, and in the death of a
man there is no remedy : neither was there any man known
to have returned from the grave.

" 2 For we are born at all adventure : and we shall be here-
after as though we had never been : for the breath in our
nostrils is as smoke, and a little spark in the moving of our
heart :

" 3 Which being extinguished, our body shall be turned into
ashes, and our spirit shall vanish as the soft air,

"4 And our name shall be forgotten in time, and no man
shall have our works in remembrance, and our life shall pass
away as the trace of a cloud, and shall be dispersed as a mist,
that is driven away with beams of the sun, and overcome with
the heat thereof.

" 5 For our time is a very shadow that passeth away; and
after our end there is no returning : for it is fast sealed, so
that no man cometh again.

" 6 Come on therefore, let us enjoy the good things that are
present : and let us speedly use the creature like as in youth.

" 7 Let us fill ourselves with costly wine and ointments : and
let no flower of the spring pass by us :

" S Let us crown ourselves with rosebuds before they be
withered."

But the author of the " Wisdom of Solomon " is not satis-
fied with this conclusion. He brings out the contrast: "For
God created man to be immortal, and made him to be an
image of his own eternity;" and he adds, "the souls of the
righteous are in the hand of God and there shall no torment
touch them."

For profoundness of philosophy there is nothing in Omar
that comes up to the superb faith of St. Paul, who cries, " All

Introduction. cxxix

represented in the magnificent choruses of the Gratitude
Hellenic drama as well as in the gay and appar- to whom
ently careless drinking-songs of Anakreon and gratl u e
Horace. Persian poetry would have furnished
a whole storehouse of analogous quotations ; it
echoes and re-echoes in the Orphic utterances of
Goethe* and in the sonnets of our own Shake-
speare.

things work together for good ! " On the other hand, there is
nothing in Omar, whom the Hungarian translator calls the
Cynic, more hopeless than these lines from Job (x. 20-22) :

" Let me alone that I may take comfort a little,

Before I go whence I shall not return,
Even to the land of darkness and of the shadow of death,

A land of thick darkness, as darkness itself
A land of the shadow of death, without any order,

And where the light is as darkness."

In the same spirit, perhaps, Browning sings : —

" Swift as a weaver's shuttle fleet our years ;
Man goeth to the grave, and where is he ? "

* The affinity between Omar and Goethe seems to have
impressed the French. The late Ernest Kenan in his Annual
Report to the Société Asiatique in July, 1S68, speaking of
Nicolas's translation of " Kheyyâm " said : —

" Mathématicien, poëte, mystique en apparence, débauché
en réalité, hypocrite consommé, mêlant le blasphème à l'hymne
mystique, le rire à l'incrédulité, Kheyyâm est peut-être l'homme
le plus curieux à étudier pour comprendre ce qu'a pu devenir
le libre génie de la Perse sous l'étreinte du dogmatisme musul-
man. La traduction des quatrains a obtenu un grand succès
en dehors du monde des orientalistes. Des critiques exercés

cxxx

Introduction.

The

abundance
of Omar
Khayyam
literature

Occasionally brief quotations from other poets
have been introduced as illustrative of thought or
expression, but much material collected had to
be omitted, the abundance of strictly appropriate
Omar Khayyam literature precluding the further
increase of the book. The principal design of
the edition was to present Omar himself, and
assuredly the combination of all the various trans-
lations ought to strike an average which in spite
of Cervantes's dictum* will fairly represent the
original : a sort of composite photograph.

I cannot end this preface without expressing
my gratitude to those who by their sympathy and

ont tout de suite senti sous cette enveloppe singulière un frère
de Goethe ou de Henri Heine."

And C. Barbier de Meynard, in his " Poésie en Perse," p. 40
(Paris, 1877), makes brief mention of Omar in almost the
same words : — ■

" C'est en Perse seulement qu'elle [la doctrine de soufisme]
pouvait se propager et s'affirmer dans des œuvres littéraires
telles, par exemple, que les Quatrains de Khayyam. Que ce
livre soit, comme on l'a prétendu, une protestation contre le
dogmatisme musulman, ou qu'il soit le produit d'une imagi-
nation-maladive, singulier mélange de scepticisme, d'ironie et
de négation amère, il n'en est pas moins curieux de trouver en
Perse, dès le xie Siècle, des précurseurs de Goethe et de
Henri Heine."

* " Le quitô mucho de su natural valor, y mismo harân todos
aquellos que los libros de verso quisieren volver en otra
lengua, que por mucho cuidado que pongan y habilidad que
muestren, jamâs llegarân al punto que ellos tienen en su
primer nacimiento."

These are the words of the Curate, but they probably repre-
sent Cervantes's own ideas.

Introduction. cxxxi

encouragement have greatly lightened what has Gratitude
been a long and laborious, though absorbing and to whom
fascinating labor. And first, to the publisher, eratitude
whose faith has kept increase with the demands 1S ue
upon his patience and his generosity, in allowing
the work to exceed its at first projected dimen-
sions, and who has put no obstacle in the way of
its complete realization. And next to Mr. John
Leslie Garner, of Milwaukee, who with truly Omar
Khayyamesque modesty allowed me to make use
not only of his own translation, but also of the
learning which distinguishes him. My thanks
are also due to the other translators of Omar,
most of whom, residing at a distance, have been
out of the reach of direct application, but whose
work I have, with pride in their accomplishments
and gratitude for their admirable services, drawn
upon for the purposes of the comparison. The
Boston Public Library and the Athenaeum have
placed every facility at the service of this work.

Mr. Charles Eliot Norton has more than once
allowed me to make use of his precious copies of
the original first and second editions of FitzGerald,
and the first copy of the first edition which I had
for comparison was intrusted to me in a perfect
and magnificently bound copy by Mr. Frederick
W. French of Boston. Colonel Higginson allowed
me to use his copy of the third edition bearing the
variants of the first and second editions, and I
have thus been enabled to compare every quota-
tion with the original text.

I have taken all pains possible to avoid inac-

cxxxii Introduction.

curacies, but eyes are prone to oversee, and types
are subject to the " total depravity of inanimate
things," so that conceit cannot blind me to the
certainty that, after all, words will be found mis-
placed and punctuation imperfect. Notification
of errors found, and any criticism, however severe,
will be gratefully received by the editor,

NATHAN HASKELL DOLE.

" Hedgecote," Glen Road,
Jamaica Plain (Boston),
February, 1896.

OMAR KHAYYAM,

THE ASTRONOMER-POET OF PERSIA.

(BY EDWARD FITZGERALD.)

With Variants of Edition I.

Omar Khayyam was born at Naishâpûr in Khorasan ! in
the latter half of our Eleventh, and died within the First
Quarter of our Twelfth, Century. The slender Story of his
Life is curiously twined about that of two other 2 very
considerable Figures in their Time and Country : one of
whom tells the Story of all Three.3 This was Nizam ul
Mulk, Vizyr to Alp Arslan the Son, and Malik Shah the
Grandson, of Toghrj.il Beg the Tartar, who had wrested
Persia from the feeble Successor of Mahmud the Great, and
founded that Seljukian Dynasty which finally roused Europe
into the Crusades. This Nizâm ul Mulk, in his Wasiyat* —

1 Ed. I: Khorassân. ' Ed. I: others.

3 Ed. I : one of them, Hasan al Sabbâh, whose very Name has
lengthen'd down to us as a terrible Synonym for Murder: and the
other (who also tells the Story of all Three) Nizâm al .Mulk, Vizyr
to Alp the Lion and Malik Shah Son and Grandson of.

4 Ed. I : YVasyat ; in ( 'owell's article, Wasiyah.

cxxxiv Omar Khayyam,

or Testament — which he wrote and left as a Memorial for
future Statesmen — relates the following, as quoted in the
Calcutta Review, No. 59, from Mirkhond's History of the
Assassins : —

" ' One of the greatest of the wise men of Khorassan was
' the Imam Mowaffak of Naishâpûr,1 a man highly honoured
' and reverenced, — may God rejoice his soul ; his illustrious
' years exceeded eighty-five, and it was the universal belief
' that every boy who read the Koran or studied the traditions
' in his presence, would assuredly attain to honour and happi-
1 ness. For this cause did my father send me from Tüs to
'Naishâpûr1 with Abd-us-samad,'2 the doctor of law, that I
' might employ myself in study and learning under the guid-
' ance of that illustrious teacher. Towards me he ever
' turned an eye of favour and kindness, and as his pupil I felt
' for him extreme affection and devotion, so that I passed four
' years in his service. When I first came there, I found two
' other pupils of mine own age newly arrived, Hakim Omar
' Khayyam, and the ill-fated Ben Sabbâh. Both were en-
' dowed with sharpness of wit and the highest natural powers ;
' and we three formed a close friendship together. When
' the Imam rose from his lectures, they used to join me,
' and we repeated to each other the lessons we had heard.
' Now Omar was a native of Naishâpûr,1 while Hasan Ben
'Sabbâh's father was one Ali, a man of austere life and
'practice, but heretical in his creed and doctrine. [He
had long sojourned in the Province of Rei. where Abu

1 Ed. I : Naishâpûr. " Ed. I : Abd-u-samad.

The Astronomer- Poet of Persia. exxxv

Moslim Rcizi was governor, a man of pure life and or-
thodox principles, who, like a good Musulman as he was,
shewed deep enmity to such a heretic. But Ali still kept
close at his side, and by lying oaths and protestations,
sought to clear himself from the insane words and actions
laid to his charge. Now the Imam Mowaffak was followed
as an example by all orthodox Musulmans ; and so this un-
happy man, to remove all suspicion of his heresies, brought
his son to Naishâpur, and made him attend the lectures
of the Imam. He himself chose a life of asceticism in a
cloister ; but even while there, men rumoured speeches of
heresy that he had uttered, sometimes of one kind and
sometimes of another. But to my story, — ] One day
' Hasan said to me and to Khayyam, ' It is a universal
' belief that the pupils of the Imam Mowaffak will attain
' to fortune. Now, even if we all do not attain thereto,
' without doubt one of us will ; what then shall be our
'mutual pledge and bond?' We answered, 'Be it what
'you please.' 'Well,' he said, 'let us make a vow, that to
' whomsoever this fortune falls, he shall share it equally
' with the rest, and reserve no pre-eminence for himself.'
" Be it so,' we both replied, and on those terms we mutually
'pledged our words. Years rolled on, and I went from
' Khorassan to Transoxiana, and wandered to Ghazni and
' Cabul ; and when I returned, I was invested with office,
' and rose to be administrator of affairs during the Sultanate
' of Sultan Alp Arslân.' [All editions here omit five lines of
Cowell, as well as the bracketed paragraph above.]

cxxxvi Omar Khayyàm,

" He goes on to state, that years passed by, and both his
old school-friends found him out, and came and claimed
a share in his good fortune, according to the school-day
vow. The Vizier was generous and kept his word. Hasan
demanded a place in the government, which the Sultan
granted at the Vizier's request ; but discontented with a
gradual rise, he plunged into the maze of intrigue of an
oriental court, and failing in a base attempt to supplant his
benefactor, he was disgraced and fell. [His subsequent
adventures are one of the romances of Oriental history. — C]
After many mishaps and wanderings, Hasan became the
head of the Persian sect of the Ismailians, — a party of
fanatics who had long murmured in obscurity, but rose to
an evil eminence under the guidance of his strong and evil
will. In a.D.1 1090, he seized the castle of Alami'it, in the
province of Rüdbar, which lies in the mountainous tract
south of the Caspian Sea; [Here he fixed his stronghold]
and it was from this mountain home he 2 obtained that evil
celebrity among the Crusaders as the OLD MAN OF THE
MOUNTAINS,3 and spread terror through the Mohamme-
dan world ; and it is yet disputed whether the word Assas-
sin, which they have left in the language of modern Europe
as their dark memorial, is derived from the hashish, or
opiate of hemp-leaves (the Indian bhang), with which they
maddened themselves to the sullen pitch of oriental des-

1 Ed. I : A. B. 2 Cowell : that the Shekh.

3 Cowell : From Alami'it issued those fierce fanatics who, in blind
devotion to their chief's commands, spread.

llic Astronomer- Poet of Persia. exxxvii

peration, or from the name of the founder of the dynasty,
whom we have seen in his quiet collegiate days, at Naish-
âpûr. [To complete the picture, we need only add that,]
One of the countless victims of the assassin's dagger was
Nizâm- ul-Mulk himself, the old school-boy friend.*

" Omar Khayyam also came to the Vizier to claim his
share ; but not to ask for title or office. ' The greatest
'boon you can confer on me,' he said, 'is to let me live in a
'corner under the shadow of your fortune, to spread wide
'the advantages of Science, and pray for your long life and
'prosperity.' The Vizier tells us, that, when he found [that
he] Omar was really sincere in his refusal, he pressed
him no further, but granted him a yearly pension of 1,200
mithkàls of gold, from the treasury o{' Naishâpûr.1

"At Naishâpûr thus lived and died Omar Kavvam,
'busied,' adds the Vizier, 'in winning knowledge of every
' kind, and especially in Astronomy, wherein he attained to
'a very high pre-eminence. Under the Sultanate of Malik
' Shah, he came to Merv, and obtained great praise for his
' proficiency in science, and the Sultan showered favours
' upon him.' [Of Omar's attainments as an astronomer we
have ample proof. — C]

1 Ed. I : Naishâpûr.

* Some of Omar's Rubâiyât warn us of the danger of Greatness,
the instability of Fortune, and while advocating Charity to ill Men,
recommending us to be too intimate with none. Attâr makes \i/am-
ul-Mulk use the very words of his friend Omar [Rub. xxviii.] [xxxi., Ed.
II], "When Nizâm-ul-Mulk was in the Agony (of Death) he said,
' Oh God ! I am passing away in the hand of the Wind."' [This note
not in Ed. I.]

cxxxviii Omar Khayyam,

" When Malik Shah determined to reform the calendar,
Omar1 was one of the eight learned men employed to do it ;
[and] the result was the Jalàli era (so called from Jalàl-
ud-din,2 one of the king's names) — 'a computation of time,'
says Gibbon, 'which surpasses the Julian, and approaches
the accuracy of the Gregorian style.' He is also the author
of some astronomical tables, entitled Ziji-Malikshâhi," 3 and
the French have lately republished and translated an Arabic
Treatise of his on Algebra. [These severer Studies, and
his Verses, which, though happily fewer than any Persian
Poet's, and, though perhaps fugitively composed, the Result
of no fugitive Emotion or Thought, are probably the Work
and Event of his Life, leaving little else to record. Perhaps
he liked a little Farming too, so often as he speaks of the
" Edge of the Tilth " on which he loved to rest with his
Diwân of Verse, his Loaf, — and his Wine. — Ed. I.]

[Of the particular incidents of his life we know little
enough, but probably there was little to know. A life like
his, spent in quiet toil, —

And hiving knowledge with studious years, —

leaves little for the chronicler to record. — C.]

'•'His Takhallus or poetical name (Khayyam) signifies a
Tent-maker, and he is said to have at one time exercised

1 Cowell: he. 2 Y.&.\,Jalal-nl-din; 1Là..Y\,Jalal-u-din.

3 Cowell: entitled Ziji-Malikshâhi and we have placed at the
head of our article a treatise of his which has been lately translated
and published in Europe.

The Astronomer- Poet of Persia. < xxxix

that trade, perhaps before Nizâm-ul-Mulk's generosity raised
him to independence. Many Persian poets similarly derive
their names from their occupations; thus we have Attar, 'a

druggist,' Assâr, 'an oil presser,' &c* Omar himself alludes
to his name in the following whimsical lines : —

' Khayyam, who stitched the tents of science,
Has fallen in grief's furnace and been suddenly burned;
The shears of Fate have cut the tent ropes of his life,
And the broker of Hope has sold him for nothing ! '

[Kheyam, qui cousait les tentes de la philosophie, Nicolas
est tombe tout à coup dans le creuset du chagrin
et s'y est brûlé. Les ciseaux de la Parque sont
venus trancher le fil de son existence, et le reven-
deur empressé l'a cédé pour rien.

Khayyam, who sewed the tents of learning, has McCarthy
fallen suddenly into the crater of despair, and there
lies calcined. The knife of fate has cut his being's
thread, and the impatient world has sold him for a
song.

Khayyam, who long time stitched the tents of Whinfield
learning, (8^)

Has fallen into a furnace, and lies burning,

Death's shears have cut his thread of life
asunder,

Fate's brokers sell him off with scorn and spurning.

* Though all these, like our Smiths, Archers, Millers, Fletchers,
&C, may simply retain the Surname of an hereditary calling. I In
Ed. I this follows in the text in a parenthesis.]

cxl Omar Khayyam,

Garner Khayyam, who stitched the Tents of Wisdom's

(XL 9) Lore,

Is fallen in the Pit and covered o'er ;

Death's shears have cut the Tent-ropes of his
Life
The World has cast him out as worthless Store.

Von Schaek Der ich der Weisheit Zelte sonst genäht, nun vom
(2°4) Geschicke,

Das im Zerstören sich gefällt und Morden,
Zerschnitten wurden mir in Gram und Weh des
Lebens Stricke
Und sind für nichts versteigert worden.

Bodenstedt Chajjam, der die Zelte des Wissens genäht,
(III. 9) Versinkt einst in's Nichts mit all' seinem Gerät.
Durchschnitten wird ihm der Lebensfaden,
Und die Welt verkauft seinen Nachlass mit
Schaden.

The poet, says Bodenstedt, signifies by this humorous
conclusion how little he takes into account the impor-
tance of being understood by the valgus profanum.]

" We have only one more anecdote to give of his Life,
and that relates to the close ; [related] it is told in the anony-
mous preface which is sometimes prefixed to his poems ; it
has been printed in the Persian in the appendix to Hyde's
Veterum Persarum Religio, p. 499; and D'Herbelot al-
ludes to it in his Bibliothèque, under Khiam : — *

* [Ed. I : Though he attributes the story to a Khiam,] " Philo-
sophe Musulman qui a vécu en Odeur de Sainteté dans la Fin du

The Astronomer-Poet of Persia. cxli

" ' It is written in the chronicles of the ancients that
'this king of the wise, Omar Khayyam, died at Naishâpûr

premier et le Commencement du second Siècle," no part of which,
except the " Philosophe," can apply to our Khayyam [who, however,
may claim the Story as his, on the score of Rubâiyât 77 and 78 of
the present Version. The Rashness of the Words according to
D'Herbelot, consisted in being so opposed to those in the Koran:
" No man knows where he shall die."]

[D'Herbelot's words copied from the second volume of the edition
published at The Hague in 1777 are as follows: —

" Khiam. Nom d'un Philosophe Musulman qui a vécu en odeur
de Sainteté dans sa Religion, vers la fin du premier & le commence-
ment du second Siècle de l'IIegire.

"L'an 105 ou 106 de l'Hegire, un jour ce Philosophe dit, étant en
compagnie de cpielques-uns de ses amis : Mon sépulcre doit être en
un lieu qui sera couvert de fleurs tous les ans au printemps. Un de
ceux qui étoient présens ; & c'est l'Auteur du Livre intitulé Mag'mâ
alnaudir, qui raconte cet événement, dit alors en lui-même : Est-il
possible qu'un homme si sage avance une parole si contraire à celle
de Dieu, qui dit dans l'Alcoran : V ma tadhri nefes beàï ardh tamaut ;
Personne ne sçait en quel lieu il mourra. Plusieurs années après, cette
même personne étant allée au printemps à Nischabour en Khorassan,
pour visiter ce Personnage, qui étoit mort en réputation de Sainteté,
trouva que son sépulcre étoit au pied de la muraille d'un jardin, où
les arbres chargez de fleurs & entrelassez les uns avec les autres, le
couvroient tellement, qu'on ne le voyoit point ; & cela fit qu'il
rappella dans sa memoire ce qu'il en avoit entendu dire autrefois."

Justin Huntly McCarthy thus translates the D'Herbelot legend:

" Khiam. Name of a Mussulman philosopher who lived in the
odour of sanctity in his religion, towards the end of the first and the
beginning of the second century of the Hegira.

" In the year CV or CVI of the Hegira this philosopher, being in
the company of certain of his friends, said, ' Man, my sepulchre

cxlii Omar Khayyam,

'in the year of the Hegira, 517 (a.D. 1123) ; in science
' he was unrivalled, — the very paragon of his age. Khwâ-
' jah Nizâmi of Samarcand, who was one of his pupils,
' relates the following story : ' I often used to hold conver-
' sations with my teacher, Omar Khayyam, in a garden ;
' and one day he said to me, ' My tomb shall be in a spot
' where the north wind may scatter roses over it.' I won-
• dered at the words he spake, but I knew that his were
' no idle words.* Years after, when I chanced to revisit

*The Rashness of the Words, according to D'Herbelot, consisted
in being so opposed to those in the Koran : " No Man knows where
he shall die." — This Story of Omar [recalls a very different one. —
Ed. II] reminds me of another so naturally — and, when one re-
members how wide of his humble mark the noble sailor aimed — so
pathetically told by Captain Cook — not by Doctor Hawkesworth —
in his Second Voyage [i. 374]. When leaving Ulietea, "Oreo's last
request was for me to return. When he saw he could not obtain
that promise, he asked the name of my Marat — Burying-place. As
strange a question as this was, I hesitated not a moment to tell
him ' Stepney,' the parish in which I live when in London. I was
made to repeat it several times over till they could pronounce it ;
and then ' Stepney Marai no Toote [e] ' was echoed through a hun-
dred mouths at once. I afterwards found the same question had been
put to Mr. Forster by a man on shore ; but he gave a different, and
indeed more proper answer, by saying, ' No man who used the sea
could say where he should be buried.' " [This note is not in Ed. I.]

ought to be in some spot where the Spring may cover it with blos-
soms every year.' One of those who was present, and who is the
author of the book called ' Mag'ma Alnauadir,' who chronicles this
event, said thereupon unto himself, ' Is it possible that a man so wise

The Astronomer-Poet of Persia. cxliii

' Naishapilr,* I went to his final resting-place, and lo ! it
' was just outside a garden, and trees laden with fruit
'stretched their boughs over the garden wall, and dropped
'their flowers upon his tomb, so as the stone was hidden
' under them.' "

Thus far — without fear of Trespass — from the Calcutta
Review. The writer of it, on reading in India this story
of Omar's Grave, was reminded, he says, of Cicero's Ac-
count of finding Archimedes' Tomb at Syracuse, buried in
grass and weeds. I think Thorwaldsen desired to have
roses grow over him ; a wish religiously fulfilled for him
to the present day, I believe. However, to return to
Omar.1

Though the Sultan " shower' d Favours upon him."
Omar's Epicurean Audacity of Thought and Speech caused
him to be regarded askance in his own Time and Country.

1 The sentences from the word " Review " to the paragraph begin-
ning " Though " were not in Ed. I.

should utter words so contrary to those of God who lays it down in
the Koran, " No man knows in what spot he shall die ? " '

" Many years after, this same individual being on a journey to
Nischabour in Khorassan, to visit this personage, who had died in
the odour of sanctity, found that his sepulchre was at the foot of
the wall of a garden where the trees, loaded with flowers and netted
one within the other, so completely covered it, that it was impossible
to see it ; and this brought back to his memory what he had heard
spoken formerly."]
* Ed. I : Naishâpur.

cxliv Omar Khayyâm,

He is said to have been especially hated and dreaded by
the Süfis, whose Practice he ridiculed, and whose Faith
amounts to little more than his own when stript of the
Mysticism and formal recognition of Islamism under which
Omar would not hide.1 Their Poets, including Hâfiz, who
are (with the exception of Firdausi 2) the most considerable
in Persia, borrowed largely, indeed, of Omar's material,
but turning it to a mystical Use more convenient to Them-
selves and the People they addressed ; 3 a People quite as
quick of Doubt as of Belief; [quite] as keen of [the]
Bodily Sense [s] as of [the] Intellectual; and delighting
in a cloudy composition of both,4 in which they could float
luxuriously between Heaven and Earth, and this World and
the Next, on the wings of a poetical expression, that might
serve indifferently for either.5 Omar was too honest of
Heart as well as of Head for this. Having failed (how-
ever mistakenly) of finding any Providence but Destiny,
and any Work! but This, he set about making the most of
it ; preferring rather to soothe the Soul through the Senses
into Acquiescence with Things as he saw them,6 than to
perplex it with vain disquietude 7 after what they might be.
It has been seen, however,8 that his Worldly Ambition9 was

1 Ed. I : compliment of Islamism which Omar would not hide under.

2 Ed. I : Firdusi. 3 Ed. I : address'd.

4 Ed. I : cloudy Element compounded of all.

5 Ed. I : could be recited indifferently whether at the Mosque or
the Tavern.

6 Ed. T : as they were. 7 Ed. I : mortifications.

8 Ed. I : It has been seen that. 9 Desires however were.

The Astronomer- Poet of Persia. c \lv

not exorbitant; and he very likely takes a humorous or
perverse pleasure in exalting the gratification of Sense
above that of the Intellect, in which he must have taken
great delight, although it failed to answer the Questions in
which he, in common with all men, was most vitally
interested.1

1 Ed. I : humourous pleasure in exaggerating them above that
Intellect in whose exercise he must have found great pleasure,
though not in a Theological direction. However this may be, his
Worldly Pleasures are what they profess to be without any Pre-
tense at divine Allegory: his Wine is the veritable Juice of the
Grape: his Tavern where it was to be had : his Sâki, the Flesh and
Blood that poured it out for him: all which, and where the Roses
were in Bloom, was all he profess'd to want of this World or to ex-
pect of Paradise.

The Mathematic Faculty, too, which regulated his Fansy, and con-
densed his Verse to a Quality, and Quantity unknown in Persian,
perhaps in Oriental, Poetry, help'd by its very virtue perhaps to
render him less popular with his countrymen. If the Greeks were
Children in Gossip, what does Persian Literature imply but a Second
Childishness of Garrulity? And certainly if no ungeometric Greek
was to enter Plato's School of Philosophy, no so unchastis'd a Per-
sian should enter on the Race of Persian Verse, with its "fatal
Facility " of running on long after Thought is winded! Put Omar
was not only the single Mathematician of his Country's Poets; he
was also of that older Time and stouter Temper, before the native
Soul of Persia was quite broke by a foreign Creed as well as foreign
Conquest. Like his great Predecessor Firdusi, who was as little ol
a Mystic; who scorned to use even a Word of the very language
in which the New Faith came clothed; and who was suspected, nol
of Omar's Irreligion indeed, but of secretly clinging to the ant uni
Fire-Religion of Zerdusht, of which so ma:. y of tin- kings lie sang

were Worshippers.

cxlvi Omar Khayyam,

For whatever Reason, however, Omar, as before said,
has never been popular in his own Country, and therefore
has been but scantily 1 transmitted abroad. The MSS. of
his Poems, mutilated beyond the average Casualties of
Oriental Transcription, are so rare in the East as scarce to
have reacht Westward at all, in spite of all the acquisitions
of Arms and Science.2 There is no copy at the India
House, none at the Bibliothèque Nationale3 of Paris. We
know but of one in England : No. 140 of the Ouseley
MSS. at the Bodleian, written at Shiraz, a. d. 1460. This
contains but 158 Rubâiyât.4 One in the Asiatic Society's
Library at Calcutta (of which we have a Copy), contains
(and yet incomplete) 516, though swelled to that by all
kinds of Repetition and Corruption. So Von Hammer
speaks of his Copy as containing about 200, while Dr.
Sprenger catalogues the Lucknow MS. at double that
number.* The Scribes, too, of the Oxford and Calcutta
MSS. seem to do their Work under a sort of Protest ; each
beginning with a Tetrastich (whether genuine or not),

1 Ed. I : charily.

2 Ed. I : in spite of all that Arms and Science have brought us.
There is none.

3 Eds. I and II: Bibliothèque Imperiale.

* Ed. I : Rabâiyât.

* " Since this Paper was written " (adds the Reviewer in a note),
"we have met with a Copy of a very rare Edition, printed at Cal-
cutta in 1836. This contains 438 Tetrastichs, with an Appendix
containing 54 others not found in some MSS."

The Astronomer- Poet of Persia. cxlvii

taken out of its alphabetical1 order; the Oxford with one
of Apology; the Calcutta with one of Expostulation,2 sup-
posed (says a Notice prefixed to the MS.) to have arisen
from a Dream, in which Omar's mother asked about his
future fate. It may be rendered thus : —

"Oh, Thou who burn'st in Heart for those who burn
" In Hell, whose fires thyself shall feed in turn :
" How long be crying, ' Mercy on them, God ! '
" Why, who art Thou to teach, and He to learn ? "

[O toi qui as été brûlé, puis brûlé encore, et qui mérites de l'être
derechef! toi qui n'es digne que d'aller attiser le feu de l'enfer!
jusques à quand prieras-tu la Divinité de pardonner à Omar? Quel
rapport existe-t-il entre toi et Dieu? Quelle audace te pousse à lui
apprendre à faire usage de sa miséricorde? Nicolas (459)

Nicolas says that this imprecation against the faithful is all the
more curious because it is addressed by the poet to the Shiites (of
the sect of AH), who abhor the name of Omar, and that Omar himself
bore that name. But perhaps Omar Khayyam did not write it. See
Dr. Hyde's Latin translation, in Bibliography, p. 445.

Thou who hast burned, who burnest, who deservest still to burn
feeding the fire of hell, why dost thou call on God to pardon < »mar?
What has God to do with thee? How darest thou appeal to his
pity? McCarthy (310)

1 Eds. I and II: alphabetic.

2 Ed. I. of Execration too stupid for Omar's, even had Omar
been stupid enough to execrate himself. [Then omits to " The
Reviewer."]

cxlviii Omar Khayyâm,

Omar ! of burning heart, perchance to burn
In hell, and feed its bale-fires in thy turn,
Presume not to teach Allah clemency,
For who art thou to teach, or he to learn ?

(Whinfield, 488, 1SS3 ; 253, 1SS2.)

O Du, der Du verdammt, in der Hölle zu brennen,
Wie magst Du Dich als Fürbitter Omar's bekennen!
Wie magst Du Gott bitten, sich sein zu erbarmen !
Was hat der Allmächt'ge zu thun mit Dir Armen !

(Bodenstedt, X. 23-)

After his death Omar is said to have appeared to his mother in a
dream, and repeated this quatrain to her.]

The Bodleian Quatrain pleads Pantheism by way of
Justification.

" If I myself upon a looser Creed
" Have loosely strung the Jewel of Good deed,
" Let this one thing for my Atonement plead ■
"That One for Two I never did mis-read." 1

The Reviewer, to whom I owe the Particulars of Omar's
Life, concludes his Review by comparing 2 him with Lucre-
tius, both as to natural Temper and Genius, and as acted
upon by the Circumstances in which he lived. Both indeed
were men of subtle, strong, and cultivated 3 Intellect, fine

1 See Appendix XXXIV, Whinfield, 147 (1SS2).

2 Fd. I : The Reviewer who translates the foregoing Particulars
of Omar's Life and some of his Verse into Prose, concludes by com-
paring him with Lucretius both in.

3 Ed. I : " strong and cultivated " not used ; " and high " = fine.

The Astronomer- Poet of Persia. cxlix

Imagination, and Hearts1 passionate for Truth and Justii e
who justly revolted from their Country's false Religion, and
false, or foolish, Devotion to it ; but who [yet] fell short of
replacing what they subverted by such better Hope as others,
with no better Revelation to guide them,- had yet made a
Law to themselves. Lucretius, indeed, with such material
as Epicurus furnished, satisfied 3 himself with the theory of a
vast machine fortuitously constructed, and acting by a Law
that implied no Legislator ; 4 and so composing himself into
a Stoical rather than Epicurean severity of Attitude, sat
down to contemplate the mechanical Drama of the Universe
which he was part Actor in ; 5 himself and all about him
(as in his own sublime description of the Roman Theatre)
discoloured 6 with the lurid reflex of the Curtain suspended
between the Spectator and the Sun.7 Omar, more des-
perate, or more careless of any so complicated s System as
resulted in nothing but9 hopeless Necessity, flung his own
Genius and Learning with a bitter or humorous jest10 into

1 Ed. I: instructed in Learning beyond their day, and of Hearts.

2 Ed. I : others upon whom no better Failli hail dawned.

3 Ed. I : consoled himself with the construction of a Machine that
needed no Constructor.

1 Ed. I : Lawgiver.

5 Ed. I : of which he was part Actor.

6 Ed. I : coloured.

7 Ed. I : that was suspended between them and the outer Sun.

8 Ed. I : such laborious.

9 Ed. I : more than.

,u Ed. I : with a Litter jest.

c] Omar Khayyam,

the general Ruin which their insufficient glimpses only
served to reveal ; and,1 pretending sensual pleasure as the
serious purpose of Life, only diverted himself with specu-
lative problems of Deity, Destiny, Matter and Spirit, Good
and Evil, and other such questions, easier to start than to
run down, and the pursuit of which becomes a very weary
sport at last !

With regard to the present Translation. The original
Rubdiyât (as, missing an Arabic Guttural, these Tetrastichs
are more musically called) are independent Stanzas, con-
sisting each of four Lines of equal, though varied, Prosody ;
sometimes all rhyming, but oftener (as here imitated) the
third line a blank. Sometimes as in 2 the Greek Alcaic,
where the penultimate 3 line seems to lift and suspend the
Wave that falls over in the last. As usual with such kind
of Oriental Verse, the Rubdiyât follow one another according
to Alphabetic Rhyme — a strange succession4 of Grave and
Gay. Those here selected are strung into something of an

1 Ed. I : and yielding his Senses to the actual Rose and Vine, only
diverted his thought by balancing ideal possibilities of Fate, Free
will, Existence, and Annihilation with an oscillation that so generally
inclined to the negative and lower side, as to make Such stanzas as
the following exceptions to his general philosophy: [Tlie/i follow the
quatrains beginning, Oh, if my soul (XLIV), and, Or is that but a
Tent (XLV).]

2 Ed. I : as here attempted, the third line suspending the Cadence
by which the last atones with the former Two. Something as in.

3 Ed. 1 : third.

4 Ed. I : Farrago.

The Astronomer- Port of Persia. cli

Eclogue, with perhaps a less than equal proportion of the
"Drink and make merry," which (genuine or not) recurs
over-frequently in the Original. [For Lucretian as Omar's
Genius might be, he cross'd that darker Mood with much
of Oliver de Basselin Humour. — Ed. I.] Either1 way, the
Result is sad enough : saddest perhaps when most ostenta-
tiously merry : more apt2 to move Sorrow than Anger toward
the old Tent-maker, who, after vainly endeavouring to un-
shackle his Steps from Destiny, and to catch some authentic
Glimpse of To-morrow, fell back upon To-d.vs :! (which has
outlasted so many To-morrows !) as the only Ground he got
to stand upon, however momentarily slipping from under
his Feet.

While the second Edition of this version of Omar was
preparing, Monsieur Nicolas, French Consul at Resht,
published a very careful and very good Edition of the
Text, from a lithograph copy at Teheran, comprising 464
Rubâiyât, with translation and notes of his own.

Mons. Nicolas, whose Edition has reminded me of
several things, and instructed me in others, does not con-
sider Omar to be the material Epicurean that 1 have liter-
ally taken him for, but a Mystic, shadowing the Deity under

1 Ed. I : any way.

2 Ed. I : merry, any way fitter.

3 Ed. I: Tomorrow — Today.

clii Omar Khayyam,

the figure of Wine, Wine-bearer, &c, as Hâfiz is supposed
to do ; in short, a Sufi Poet like Hâfiz and the rest.

I cannot see reason to alter my opinion, formed as it
was more than a dozen years ago when Omar was first
shown me by one to whom I am indebted for all I know
of Oriental, and very much of other, literature. He ad-
mired Omar's Genius so much, that he would gladly have
adopted any such Interpretation of his meaning as Mons.
Nicolas' if he could.* That he could not, appears by his
Paper in the Calcutta Review already so largely quoted ;
in which he argues from the Poems themselves, as well as
from what records remain of the Poet's Life.

And if more were needed to disprove Mons. Nicolas'
Theory, there is the Biographical Notice which he himself
has drawn up in direct contradiction to the Interpretation
of the Poems given in his Notes. (See pp. xiii, xiv, of his
Preface.)1 Indeed I hardly knew poor Omar was so far
gone till his Apologist informed me. For here we see that,
whatever were the Wine that Hâfiz drank and sang, the
veritable Juice of the Grape it was which Omar used, not
only when carousing with his friends, but (says Mons.

1 In Fitzgerald, Ed. II, Nicolas's own words are given : see Bibli-
ography, p. 469.

* Perhaps would have edited the Poems himself some years ago.
He may now as little approve of my Version on one side, as of
Mons. Nicolas' Theory on the other.

The Astronomer- Poet of Persia. clhi

Nicolas) in order to excite himself to that pitch of Devo-
tion which others reached by cries and " hurlemens."
And yet, whenever Wine, Wine-bearer, &c, occur in the
Text — which is often enough — Mons. Nicolas carefully
annotates "Dieu," "La Divinité," &c. : so carefully indeed
that one is tempted to think that he was indoctrinated by
the Sufi with whom he read the Poems. (Nute to Rub. ii.
p. 8.) A Persian would naturally wish to vindicate a dis-
tinguished Countryman; and a Süfi to enrol him in his own
sect, which already comprises all the chief Poets of Persia.

What historical Authority has Mons. Nicolas to show
that Omar gave himself up "avec passion à l'étude de la
philosophie des Soufis"? (Preface, p. xiii.) The Doc-
trines of Pantheism, Materialism, Necessity, &c, were not
peculiar to the Sufi ; nor to Lucretius before them ; nor to
Epicurus before him ; probably the very original Irreligion
of Thinking men from the first ; and very likely to be the
spontaneous growth of a Philosopher living in an Age of
social and political barbarism, under shadow of one of the
Two and Seventy Religions supposed to divide the world.
Von Hammer (according to Sprenger's Oriental Catalogue)
speaks of Omar as " a Free-thinker, and a great opponent
of Sufis m ;" perhaps because, while holding much of their
Doctrine, he would not pretend to any inconsistent severity
of morals. Sir W. Ouseley has written a note to something
of the same effect on the flydeaf of the Bodleian MS. And
in two Rubâiyât of Mons. Nicolas' own Edition Si'if ami
Süfi are both disparagingly named.

cliv Omar Khayyam,

No doubt many of these Quatrains seem unaccountable
unless mystically interpreted ; but many more as unac-
countable unless literally. Were the Wine spiritual, for
instance, how wash the Body with it when dead? Why
make cups of the dead clay to be filled with — '•' La
Divinité" by some succeeding Mystic? Mons. Nicolas
himself is puzzled by some " bizarres " and " trop Orien-
tales " allusions and images — "d'une sensualité quelque-
fois révoltante'' indeed — which "les convenances" do
not permit him to translate ; but still which the reader
cannot but refer to " La Divinité." * No doubt also many
of the Quatrains in the Teheran, as in the Calcutta, Copies,
are spurious ; such Rubàiyàt being the common form of
Epigram in Persia. But this, at best, tells as much one
way as another ; nay, the Süfi, who may be considered
the Scholar and Man of Letters in Persia, would be far
more likely than the careless Epicure to interpolate what

* A note to Quatrain 234 admits that, however clear the mystical
meaning of such Images must be to Europeans, they are not quoted
without "rougissant" even by laymen in Persia — "Quant aux
termes de tendresse qui commencent ce quatrain, comme tant
d'autres dans ce recueil, nos lecteurs, habitués maintenant à l'étran-
geté des expressions si souvent employées par Khéyam pour rendre
ses pensées sur l'amour divin, et à la singularité des images trop
orientales, d'une sensualité quelquefois révoltante, n'auront pas de
peine à se persuader qu'il s'agit de la Divinité, bien que cette con-
viction soit vivement discutée par les moullahs musulmans, et même
par beaucoup de laïques, qui rougissent véritablement d'une pareille
licence de leur compatriote à l'égard des choses spirituelles."

The Astronomer- Poet of Persia. civ

favours his own view of the Poet. 1 observe that very
few of the more mystical Quatrains are in the Bodleian
MS., which must be one of the oldest, as dated at Shiraz,
A. H. 865, A. D. 1460. And this, 1 think, especially dis-
tinguishes Omar (I cannot help calling him by his — no,
not Christian — familiar name) from all other Persian
Poets : That, whereas with them the Poet is lost in his
Song, the Man in Allegory and Abstraction ; we seem to
have the Man — the Bonhomme — Omar himself, with all
his Humours and Passions, as frankly before us as if we
were really at Table with him, after the Wine had gone
round.

I must say that I, for one, never wholly believed in the
Mysticism of Hafiz. It does not appear there was any
danger in holding and singing Sufi Pantheism, so long as
the Poet made his Salaam to Mohammed at the beginning
and end of his Song. Under such conditions Jelâluddin,
Jâmi, Attâr, and others sang; using Wine and Beauty
indeed as Images to illustrate, not as a Mask to hide, the
Divinity they were celebrating. Perhaps some Allegory
less liable to mistake or abuse had been better among so
inflammable a People : much more so when, as some think
with Hâfiz and Omar, the abstract is not only likened to.
but identified with, the sensual Image ; hazardous, if not
to the Devotee himself, yet to his weaker Urethren ; and
worse for the Profane in proportion as the 1 )evotion of the
Initiated grew warmer. And all for what? To be tanta-
lized with Images of sensual enjoyment which must be

elvi Omar Khayyam.

renounced if one would approximate a God, who according
to the Doctrine, is Sensual Matter as well as Spirit, and
into whose Universe one expects unconsciously to merge
after Death, without hope of any posthumous Beatitude in
another world to compensate for all one's self-denial in this.
Lucretius' blind Divinity certainly merited, and probably
got, as much self-sacrifice as this of the Süfi ; and the
burden of Omar's Song — if not "Let us eat" — is assur-
edly— "Let us drink, for To-morrow we die!" And if
Hâfiz meant quite otherwise by a similar language, he
surely miscalculated when he devoted his Life and Genius
to so equivocal a Psalmody as, from his Day to this,
has been said and sung by any rather than spiritual
Worshippers.

However, as there is some traditional presumption, and
certainly the opinion of some learned men, in favour of
( )mar's being a Süfi — and even something of a Saint —
those who please may so interpret his Wine and Cup-
bearer. On the other hand, as there is far more historical
certainty of his being a Philosopher, of scientific Insight
and Ability far beyond that of the Age and Country he
lived in ; of such moderate worldly Ambition as becomes
a Philosopher, and such moderate wants as rarely satisfy a
Debauchee ; other readers may be content to believe with
me that, while the Wine Omar celebrates is simply the
Juice of the Grape, he bragg'd more than he drank of it,
in very defiance perhaps of that Spiritual Wine which left
its Votaries sunk in Hypocrisy or Disgust.

R U B A I Y A T

OMAR KHAYYAM OF NAISHÄPÜR.
{From FitzGerald 's Second Edition^ 1868.)

Wake ! For the Sun behind yon Eastern height
Has chased the Session of the Stars from Night,

And, to the field of Heav'n ascending, strikes
The Sultan's Turret with a Shaft of Litrht.

II.

Before the phantom of False morning died,1
Methought a Voice within the Tavern cried,
" When all the Temple is prepared within,
" Why lags the drowsy Worshipper outside ? "

And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before
The Tavern shouted — "Open then the Door!
" You know how little while we have to stay,
" And, once departed, may return no more."

clviii Rubàiyàt of

Now the New Year reviving old Desires '2,
The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires,

Where the White Hand of Moses on the Bough
Puts out, and Jesus from the ground suspires.3

Irani indeed is gone with all his Rose,4

And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows ;

But still a Ruby gushes from the Vine,
And many a Garden by the Water blows.

VI.

And David's lips are lockt ; but in divine 5
High-piping Péhlevi, with "Wine! Wine! Wine!

" Red Wine ! " — the Nightingale cries to the Rose
That sallow cheek0 of her's to incarnadine.

VII.

Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring
Your Winter-garment of Repentance fling :

The Bird of Time has but a little way
To flutter — and the Bird is on the Wing.

VIII.

Whether at Naishâpiir or Babylon,
Whether the Cup with sweet or bitter run,

The Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop,
The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one.

Omar Khayyàm. dix

Morning a thousand Roses brings, you say;
Yes, but where leaves the Kose of yesterday ?

And this first Summer month that brings the Rose
Shall take Jamshyd and Kaikobäd away.

Well, let it take them ! What have we to do
With Kaikobäd the Great, or Kaikhosru ?

Let Rustum cry " To Battle " as he likes,7
Or Hâtim Tai " To Supper ! " — heed not you.

With me along the strip of Herbage strown
That just divides the desert from the sown,

Where name of Slave and Sultan is forgot —
And Peace to Mâhmud on his golden Throne !

Here with a little Bread beneath the Bough,
A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse — and Thou

Beside me singing in the Wilderness —
Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow !

Some for the Glories of This World ; and some
Sigh for the Prophet's Paradise to come ;

Ah, take the Cash, and let the Promise go.
Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum ! s

clx Rubàiyàt of

Were it not Folly, Spider-like to spin

The Thread of present Life away to win —

What ? for ourselves, who know not if we shall
Breathe out the very Breath we now breathe in !

Look to the blowing Rose about us — " Lo,
" Laughing," she says, " into the world I blow :

" At once the silken tassel of my Purse
" Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw."

XVI.

For those who husbanded the Golden grain,
And those who flung it to the winds like Rain,

Alike to no such aureate Earth are turn'd
As, buried once, Men want dug up again.

XVII.

The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon
Turns Ashes — or it prospers ; and anon,

Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face,
Lighting a little hour or two — was gone.

XVIII.

Think, in this batter'd Caravanserai

Whose Portals are alternate Night and Day,

How Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp
Abode his destin'd Hour, and went his way.

Omar Khaxxâm. clxi

XIX.

They say the Lion and the Lizard keep

The Courts wherejamsliyd gloried and drank deep: 10

And Bahrain, that great Hunter — the Wild Ass
Stamps o'er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep.

XX.

The Palace that to Heav'n his pillars threw,
And Kings the forehead on his threshold drew —

I saw the solitary Ringdove there,
And " Coo, coo, coo," she cried; and " Coo, coo, coo."

XXI.

Ah, my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears
To-day of past Regrets and future Fears :

To-morrow ! — Why, To-morrow I may be
Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n thousand Years.12

For some we loved, the loveliest and the best
That from his Vintage rolling Time has prest,

Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before,
And one by one crept silently to rest.

XXIII.

And we, that now make merry in the Room
They left, and Summer dresses in new Bloom.

Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth
Descend, ourselves to make a Couch — for whom ?
ii

clxii Rubdiyât of

XXIV.

I sometimes think that never blows so red
The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled ;

That every Hyacinth the Garden wears
Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head.

And this delightful Herb whose living Green
Fledges the River's Lip on which we lean —

Ah, lean upon it lightly ! for who knows
From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen !

Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,
Before we too into the Dust descend ;

Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie,
Sans Wine, Sans Song, sans Singer, and — sans End !

Alike for those who for To-day prepare,
And those that after some To-morrow stare,

A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries,
" Fools ! your Reward is neither Here nor There ! "

XXVIII.

Another Voice, when I am sleeping, cries,

"The Flower should open with the Morning skies.

And a retreating Whisper, as 1 wake —
" The Flower that once has blown for ever dies."

Omar Khayyam. clxiii

Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd
Of the Two Worlds so learnedly, are thrust

Like foolish Prophets forth ; their Words to Scorn
Are scatter'd, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust.

Myself when young did eagerly frequent
Doctor and Saint, and heard great argument

About it and about : but evermore
Came out by the same door as in I went.

XXXI.

With them the seed of Wisdom did I sow,

And with mine own hand wrought to make it grow

And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd —
" I came like Water, and like Wind I go."

XXXII.

Into this Universe, and Why not knowing,
Nor Whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing :

And out of it, as Wind along the Waste,
I know not Whither, willy-nilly blowing.

What, without asking, hither hurried Whence?
And, without asking. Whither hurried hence !

Ah, contrite Heav'n endowed us with tin- Vine
To drug the memory of that insolence !

clxiv Rubâiydt of

Up from Earth's Centre through the Seventh Gate
I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate,13
And many Knots unravel'd by the Road;
But not the Master-Knot of Human Fate.

There was the Door to which I found no Key:
There was the Veil through which I could not see:

Some little talk awhile of Me and Thee
There was — and then no more of Thee and Me.14

xxxvi.

Earth could not answer; nor the Seas that mourn
In flowing Purple, of their Lord forlorn;

Nor Heav'n, with those eternal Signs reveal'd
And hidden by the sleeve of Night and Morn.

Then of the Thee in Me who works behind
The Veil of Universe I cried to find

A Lamp to guide me through the Darkness; and
Something then said — ■ " An Understanding blind."

Then to the Lip of this poor earthen Urn
I lean'd, the secret Well of Life to learn :

And Lip to Lip it murmur'd — " While you live,
" Drink ! — Tor, once dead, you never shall return."

Omar Khayyam. clxv

xxxix.

I think the Vessel, that with fugitive
Articulation answer'd, once did live,

And drink; and that impassive Lip I kiss'd,
How many Kisses might it take — and give !

For I remember stopping by the way

To watch a Potter thumping his wet Clay :

And with its all-obliterated Tongue
It murmur'd — " Gently, Brother, gently, pray ! "

XLI.

For has not such a Story from of Old
Down Man's successive generations roll'd

Of such a clod of saturated Earth
Cast by the Maker into Human mould ?

XLir.

And not a drop that from our Cups we throw 15
On the parcht herbage but may steal below

To quench the fire of Anguish in some Eye
There hidden — far beneath, and long ago.

As then the Tulip for her wonted sup
Of Heavenly Vintage lifts her chalice up,

Do you, twin offspring of the soil, till Heav'n
To Earth invert you like an empty Cup.

clxvi Rubàiyàt of

XLIV.

Do you, within your little hour of Grace,
The waving Cypress in your Arms enlace,

Before the Mother back into her arms
Fold, and dissolve you in a last embrace.

And if the Cup you drink, the Lip you press,
End in what All begins and ends in — Yes ;

Imagine then you are what heretofore
You -were — hereafter you shall not be less.

XL VI.

So when at last the Angel of the darker drink 16
Of Darkness finds you by the river-brink.

And, proffering his Cup, invites your Soul
Forth to your Lips to quaff it — do not shrink.

XLVII.

And fear not lest Existence closing yotir
Account, should lose, or know the type no more;

The Eternal Sâki from that Bowl has pour'd
Millions of Bubbles like us, and will pour.

XLVIII.

When You and I behind the Veil are past,

Oh but the long long while the World shall last,

Which of our Coming and Departure heeds
As much as Ocean of a pebble-cast.

Omar Khayyàm. clxvii

XLIX.

One Moment in Annihilation's Waste,
One Moment, of the Well of Life to taste —
The Stars are setting, and the Caravan 17
Draws to the Dawn of Nothing: — Oh make haste!

Would you that spangle of Existence spend
About the secret — quick about it, Friend !

A Hair, they say, divides the False and True —
And upon what, prithee, does Life depend ?

A Hair, they say, divides the False and True;
Yes ; and a single Alif were the clue,

Could you but find it, to the Treasure-house,
And peradventure to The Master too ;

LII.

Whose secret Presence, through Creation's veins
Running, Quicksilver-like eludes your pains :

Taking all shapes from Mäh to Mähi ; 18 and
They change and perish all — but He remains ;

LIU.

A moment guess'd — then back behind the Fold
Immerst of Darkness round the Drama roll'd

Which, for the Pastime of Eternity.
He doth Himself contrive, enact, behold.

clxviii Rubàiyàt of

LIV.

But if in vain, clown on the stubborn floor

Of Earth, and up to Heav'n's unopening Door,

You gaze To-day, while You are You — how then
To-morrow, You when shall be You no more?

LV.

Oh, plagued no more with Human or Divine,
To-morrow's tangle to itself resign,

And lose your fingers in the tresses of
The Cypress-slender Minister of Wine.

Waste not your Hour, nor in the vain pursuit
Of This and That endeavour and dispute ;
Better be merry with the fruitful Grape
Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit.

You know, my Friends, how bravely in my House
For a new Marriage I did make Carouse :

Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed,
And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse.

For " Is " and "Is-xot" though with Rule and Line,19
And " Up-and-down " by Logic I define,
Of all that one should care to fathom, I
Was never deep in anything but — Wine.

O/inii Khayxàm.

Ah, but my Computations, People say,

Have squared the Year to human compass, eh ?

If so, by striking from the Calendar
Unborn To-morrow, and dead Yesterday.

LX.

And lately, by the Tavern Door agape,

Came shining through the Dusk an Angel Shape

Bearing a Vessel on his Shoulder ; and
He bid me taste of it ; and 'twas — the Grape !

LXI.

The Grape that can with Logic absolute

The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute : 20

The sovereign Alchemist that in a trice
Life's leaden metal into Gold transmute :

LXII.

The mighty Mahmud, Allah-breathing Lord,
That all the misbelieving and black Horde -1
Of fears and Sorrows that infest the Soul
Scatters before him with his whirlwind Sword.

LXIII.

Why, be this Juice the growth of God, who dare
Blaspheme the twisted tendril as a Snare?

A Blessing, we should use it, should we not?
And if a Curse — why, then, Who set it there ?

clxx Rubàiyât of

LXIV

I must abjure the Balm of Life, I must,
Scared by some After-reckoning ta'en on trust,
Or lured with Hope of some Diviner Drink,
When the frail Cup is crumbled into Dust!

LXV,

If but the Vine and Love-abjuring Band
Are in the Prophet's Paradise to stand,

Alack, I doubt the Prophet's Paradise
Were empty as the hollow of one's Hand.

LXVI.

Oh threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise !
One thing at least is certain — This Life flies

One thing is certain and the rest is lies ;
The Flower that once is blown for ever dies.

LXVII.

Strange, is it not ? that of the myriads who
Before us pass'd the door of Darkness through

Not one returns to tell us of the Road,
Which to discover we must travel too.

The Revelations of Devout and Learn'd
Who rose before us, and as Prophets burn'd,

Are all but Stories, which, awoke from Sleep
They told their fellows, and to Sleep return'd.

Omar Khayyâm. clxxi

I. XIX.

Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside,
And naked on the Air of Heaven ride,

Is't not a shame — is't not a shame for him
So long in this Clay suburb to abide ?

LXX.

But that is but a Tent wherein may rest
A Sultan to the realm of Death addrest ;
The Sultan rises, and the dark Ferrash
Strikes, and prepares it for another guest.

LXXI.

I sent my Soul through the Invisible,
Some letter of that After-life to spell :

And after many days my Soul return'd
And said, " Behold, Myself am Heav'n and Hell

Heav'n but the Vision of fulfill'd Desire,
And Hell the Shadow of a Soul on fire,

Cast on the Darkness into which Ourselves,
So late emerg'd from, shall so soon expire.

LXXIII.

We are no other than a moving row
Of visionary Shapes that come and go

Round with this Sun-illumin'd Lantern held
In Midnight by the Master of the Show ; —

clxxii Rubàiyàt of

Impotent Pieces of the Game He plays

Upon this Chequer-board of Nights and Days ;

Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays ;
And one by one back in the Closet lays.

The Ball no Question makes of Ayes and Noes,
But Right or Left as strikes the Player goes ;

And He that toss'd you down into the Field,
He knows about it all — he knows — HE knows ! 23

LXXVI.

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on : nor all your Piety nor Wit

Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.

LXXVII.

For let Philosopher and Doctor preach

Of what they will, and what they will not — each

Is but one Link in an eternal Chain
That none can slip, nor break, nor over-reach.

LXXVIII.

And that inverted Bowl we call The Sky,
Whereunder crawling coop'd we live and die,

Lift not your hands to It for help — for It
As impotently rolls as you or I.

Omar Khayydtn.

LXXIX.

With Earth's first Clay They did the Last Man knead.
And there of the Last Harvest sow'd the Seed :

And the first Morning of Creation wrote
What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read.

Yesterday This Day's Madness did prepare ;
To-morrow's Silence, Triumph, or Despair:

Drink! for you know not whence you came, nor why
Drink ! for you know not why you go, nor where.

I tell you this — When, started from the Goal,
Over the flaming shoulders of the Foal

Of Heav'n Parwfn and Mushtari they flung,24
In my predestin'd Plot of Dust and Soul

The Vine had struck a fibre: which about
If clings my Being — let the Dervish flout ;

Of my Base metal may be filed a Key,
That shall unlock the Door he howls without.

And this I know : whether the one True Light,
Kindle to Love, or Wrath-consume me quite,
One Flash of It within the Tavern caught
Better than in the Temple lost outright.

clxxiv Rubàiyàt of

What ! out of senseless Nothing to provoke
A conscious Something to resent the yoke

Of unpermitted Pleasure, under pain
Of Everlasting Penalties, if broke !

LXXXV.

What ! from his helpless Creature be repaid
Pure Gold for what he lent us dross-allay'd —

Sue for a Debt we never did contract,
And cannot answer — Oh the sorry trade !

LXXXVI.

Nay, but, for terror of his wrathful Face,
I swear I will not call Injustice grace ;

Not one Good Fellow of the Tavern but
Would kick so poor a Coward from the place.

Oh Thou, who didst with pitfall and with gin
Beset the Road I was to wander in,

Thou wilt not with Predestin'd Evil round
Enmesh, and then impute my Fall to Sin ?

LXXXVIII.

Oh Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make,
And ev'n with Paradise devise the Snake :

For all the Sin the Face of wretched Man
Is black with — Man's Forgiveness give — and take!

Omar Khayyam. clxxv

As under cover of departing Day
Slunk hunger-stricken Ramazân away,

Once more within the Potter's house alone
I stood, surrounded by the Shapes of Clay.

And once again there gather'd a scarce heard
Whisper among them ; as it were, the stirr'd
Ashes of some all but extinguisht Tongue,
Which mine ear kindled into living Word.

XCI.

Said one among them — " Surely not in vain,

" My Substance from the common Earth was ta'en,

"That He who subtly wrought me into Shape
" Should stamp me back to shapeless Earth again ? "

XCII.

Another said, "Why, ne'er a peevish Boy

"Would break the Cup from which he drank in Joy:

" Shall He that of his own free Fancy made
" The Vessel, in an after-rage destroy ! "

XCIII.

None answer'd this; but after silence spake
Some Vessel of a more ungainly Make ;

" They sneer at me for leaning all awry :
"What ! did the Hand then of the Potter shake ? "

clxxvi Rubàiyat of

xciv.

Thus with the Dead as with the Living, What?
And Why ? so ready, but the Where/or not,

One on a sudden peevishly exclaim'd,
'Which is the Potter, pray, and which the Pot?'

xcv.

Said one — " Folks of a surly Master tell,
" And daub his Visage with the Smoke of Hell ;
" They talk of some sharp Trial of us — Pish !
" He's a good Fellow, and 'twill all be well."

xcvi.

" Well," said another, " Whoso will, let try,
" My Clay with long Oblivion is gone dry :
" But, fill me with the old familiar Juice,
" Methinks I might recover by-and-bye."

XCVII.

So while the Vessels one by one were speaking,
One spied the little Crescent all were seeking : 25

And then they jogg'd each other, " Brother ! Brother !
" Now for the Porter's shoulder-knot a-creakin^ " !

XCVIII.

Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide,
And wash the Body whence the Life has died,

And lay me, shrouded in the living Leaf,
By some not unfrequented Garden-side.

Omar Khayyam.

xcix.

Whither resorting from the vernal Heat

Shall Old Acquaintance Old Acquaintance greet,

Under the Branch that leans above the Wall
To shed his Blossom over head and feet.

Then ev'n my buried Ashes such a snare
Of Vintage shall fling up into the Air,

As not a True-believer passing by
But shall be overtaken unaware.

CI.

Indeed the Idols I have loved so long

Have done my credit in Men's eye much wrong:

Have drown'd my Glory in a shallow Cup,
'And sold my Reputation for a Song.

CIL

Indeed, indeed, Repentance oft before
I swore — but was I sober when I swore?

And then and then came Spring, and Rose-in-hand
My thread-bare Penitence apieces tore.

And much as Wine has play'd the Infidel,
And robb'd me of my Robe of Honour — Well,

I often wonder what the Vintners buy
One half so precious as the ware they sell.

clxxviii Rubâiyât of

Yet Ah, that Spring should vanish with the Rose!
That Youth's sweet-scented manuscript should close

The Nightingale that in the branches sang,
Ah whence, and whither flown again, who knows !

cv.

Would but the Desert of the Fountain yield
One glimpse — if dimly, yet indeed, reveal'd,

Toward which the fainting Traveller might spring,
As springs the trampled herbage of the field !

Oh if the World were but to re-create,

That we might catch ere closed the Book of Fate,

And make The Writer on a fairer leaf
Inscribe our names, or quite obliterate !

evil.

Better, oh better, cancel from the Scroll
Of Universe one luckless Human Soul,

Than drop by drop enlarge the Flood that rolls
Hoarser with Anguish as the Ages roll.

cvin.

Ah Love ! could you and I with Fate conspire
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,
Would not we shatter it to bits — and then
Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire !

Omar Khayyâm. clxxix

cix.

But see ! The rising Moon of Heav'n again

Looks for us, Sweet-heart, through the quivering Plane

How oft hereafter rising will she look
Among those leaves — for one of us in vain !

ex.

And when Yourself with silver Foot shall pass
Among the Guests Star-scatter'd on the Grass,

And in your joyous errand reach the spot
Where I made One — turn down an empty Glass!

TAMÄM.

COMPARATIVE VERSIONS

RUBAI YAT

OMAR KHAYYAM,

Translations of FitzGerald, Nicolas, McCarthy, Kerney,

Whinfield, Garner, Bodenstedt, and

Graf von Schack.

RUBAIYAT

OMAR KHAYYAM OF NAISHAPUR.

FitzGerald Wake ! For the Sun who scattered into flight
(I.) The Stars before him from the Field of Night,

1889 Drives Night along with them from J/eav'n,

and strikes
The Sultâiis Turret with a Shaft of Light.

(I.) Awake ! for Morning in the Bowl of Night

,859 Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight : 1

And Lo ! the Hunter of the East has caught
The Sultan's Turret in a Noose of Light.

(I) Wake ! for the Sun behind yon Eastern height

186S Has chased the Session of the Stars from Night

And, to the field of Heav'n ascending, strikes
The Sultan's Turret with a Shaft of Light.

Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam.

The Sun doth smite the roofs with Orient ray,
And. Khosrau like, his wine-red sheen display ;

Arise, and drink ! the herald of the dawn
Uplifts his voice, and cries, " O drink to-day!"

Whinfield
(*33)

The Sun has cast about the city towers Garner

A noose of light; Kai-Kosru-like, he showers Ms. 18 ,-,

His wine in Morning's cup, — but hark ! a voice
Cries out and bids us seize the transient hours !

The sun has cast on wall and roof his net of burn-
ing light,

The lordly day fills high the cup to speed the
parting night.
" Wake ! " cries in silver accents the herafd of
the dawn ;

" Arise and drink! the darkness flies — the morn-
ins: rises bright."

#(■)
1S87

" Flinging a Stone into the Cup was the signal for ' To
Horse!' in the Desert." Or, to use FitzGerakl's own words
in explanation of the passage in the " Salâmân and Absâl " —
That cup of Happiness and Tears
In which Farewell has never yet beenflnng —
" A pebble flung into a Cup " was "a signal for a company to
break up." In FitzGerakl's first draught of Edition III the
first and second lines read : —

Wake ! for the Sun before him into Night
A Signal /hint; that put the Stars to flight.
In Whinfield, 74 (1S82), Khosru-like . . . drink, and the last
line reads : —

Proclaims the advent of another day.

Rubdiyàt of Omar Khayyàm.

FitzGerald Before the phantom of False morning died,
(II) Me thought a Voice within the Tavern cried,

1889 *t When all the Temple is prepared with in,

" Why nods the drowsy Worshipper outside ? "

(II.) Dreaming when Dawn's Left Hand was in the Sky2

1859 I heard a Voice within the Tavern cry,

" Awake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup
" Before Life's Liquor in its Cup be dry."

Nicolas Un matin, j'entendis venir de notre taverne une

(0 voix qui disait : À moi, joyeux buveurs, jeunes

1867 fous ! levez-vous, et venez remplir encore une coupe

de vin, avant que le destin vienne remplir celle

de votre existence.

McCarthy There came a voice at dawning from the wine-

(183) shop, crying, "Arise, ye haunters of the tavern-

1879 divan, arise, and fill the cannikin before Fate comes

to fill the cup of your being.

M. K. Out from our inn, one morn, a voice came roaring,

188S — " Up !

Sots, scamps, and madmen ! quit your heavy
snoring ! Up !
Come, pour we out a measure full of wine, and
drink !
Ere yet the measure's brimmed for us they're
pouring up."

Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyam,

At dawn a cry through all the tavern shrilled,
" Arise my brethren of the revellers' guild,

That I may fill our measures full of wine.
Or e'er the measure of our days be filled."'

One Morn while sitting by the Tavern's Door
I heard a Voice in Accents Mild Implore

" Come, fill another Cup with Sparkling Wine,
Make Haste, the Cup of Lilt- will soon run o'er.'1

The rosy dawn shines through the tavern door
And cries, "Wake ! slumbering reveller and pour !

For ere my sands of life be all run out,
I fain would fill my jars with wine once more."

Eine Stimme scholl Morgens zu mir aus der
Schenke :

Steh auf, närr'scher Schwärmer, Dein Ikil be-
denke —
Füll', ehe das Mass unsres Schicksals gelullt
ist,

Ilei uns noch das Mass mit edlem Getränke !

Whinfield

(-)

Garner
(I- J4)

#(2)
1S87

Bodenstedt

(IX. 34)
1881

Heut Morgen erscholl ein Ruf aus der Schenke : v°n Schuck
•■ ( ) Volk der Zecher, meiner gedenke ! (*39)

Auf ! auf ! mit Weine das Glas gefüllt, ,878

Bevor das Geschik das Mass euch füllt ! "

See Appendix I.

6 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGerald And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before
(HI-) The Tavern shouted — " Open then the Door !
l889 " You know how little while we have to stay,

"And, once departed, may return no more."

(ni) And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before
l859 The Tavern shouted — " Open then the Door !
You know how little while we have to stay,
And, once departed, may return no more."

Nicolas
(426)

Sais-tu pourquoi au lever de l'aurore le coq
matinal fait à chaque instant entendre sa voix ?
C'est pour te rappeler, par le miroir du matin,
qu'une nuit vient de s'écouler de ton existence,
et que tu es encore dans l'ignorance.

McCarthy
(419)

Know you why at the hour of the dawning the
cock shrills his frequent clarion? It is but to
remind you by the mirror of morning, that from
your existence a night has slipped, and you are
still ignorant.

Whinfleld When dawn doth silver the dark firmament,
(463) Why shrills the bird of dawning his lament?
It is to show in dawn's bright looking-glass
How of thy careless life a night is spent.

Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 7

The Herald of the Morn, in lusty tone, Garner

Loud greets the Dawn upon her Golden Throne, (I' !)

Again proclaiming to a Slumbering World,
Another Night beyond recall has flown.

Weisst Du, warum so beständig der Halm Bodenstedt

Seine Stimme erhebt bei des Morgens Nahn ? ^x- ''

Er kräht, dass schon wieder die Nacht ent-
schwindet
Und der kommende Tag Dich nicht klüger findet.

Wisst ihr, warum der Hahn im Hof am Morgen Von Schack
jedes Tages kräht? (22+)

Ich will euch deuten seinen Ruf, dass ihr ihn
rechten Sinn's versteht.

Er sagt, dass wieder eine Nacht des Lebens euch
verstrichen ist

Und dass ihr immer noch nichts wisst.

See Appendix I.

8 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

Fitz Gerald Now the New Year 3 reviving old Desires,
(iv.) 'fne thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires,

,889 Where the White Hand of Moses on the

1859 D /

Bough

Puts out,* and Jesus from the ground suspires.

Nicolas
(186)

Voici le moment où de verdure va s'orner le
monde, où, semblables à la main de Moïse, les
bourgeons vont se montrer aux branches ; où,
comme ravivées par le souffle de Jésus les plantes
vont sortir de terre; où enfin les nuages vont
ouvrir les yeux pour pleurer.

McCarthy Behold, the time is come, when the earth is

(9O about to clothe itself in verdure, when the blos-

soms breaking forth over the branches, make them
become as the hand of Moses, when, as if quick-
ened by the breath of Jesus, the plants spring from
the earth, when at last the clouds open their eyes
to weep.

Whinfield Now is the time earth decks her greenest bowers,
(201) And trees, like Musa's hand, grow white with

flowers !
As 'twere at 'Isa's breath the plants revive,
While clouds brim o'er, like tearful eyes, with
showers.

Rubàiyàt oj Unna Khayyâm. 9

Snow white, like Musts' hand, the Branches grow, Garner
While Clouds rain Tears upon the Earth below, (I. 14)

The opening buds revived by Jesus' breath,
Upon the air their Subtile Fragrance throw.

Dies ist die Zeit, wo die Welt sich schmückt mit Bodenstedt
Grün, ( vi. 1)

Wo, wie Mosis Hand, alle Zweige von Knospen
glühn,

Wo die Pflanzen sprossen wie von Jesu Odem
belebt

Und die Wolke weinend sich selbst begräbt!

Compare Whinfield, 1 16 : —

Nnv spring-tide showers Us foison on the land,
And lively heurts wend forth, a joyous band,

For ''has breath wakes the dead earth to life,
And trees gleam white with flowers, like M/tsa' s hand.

The Inst line of Whinfield, 109 (18S2), reads : —

Now spring with boscage green the earth embowers.

See also Appendix II.

io Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyàm.

FitzGerald Iram indeed is gone with all his Rose,

(v> And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one

l889 knows;

But still a Ruby kindles in the Vine,
And many a Garden by the Water blows.

(V.) Irâm indeed is gone with all its Rose,5

1859 And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one

knows ;
But still the Vine her ancient Ruby yields,
And still a Garden by the Water blows.

(V.) Iram indeed is gone with all his Rose,

1868 And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one

knows ;
But still a Ruby gushes from the Vine,
And many a Garden by the Water blows.

Rul'âiyât of Omar Khayyàm. 1 1

See ! from the world what profit have I gained ? Whinfield
What fruitage of my life in hand retained ? ('33)

What use is Jamshed's goblet, once 't is crushed ?
What pleasure's torch, when once its light has
waned ?

FitzGerald's note (4): " Irani, planted by King Shaddad,
and now sunk somewhere in the Sands of Arabia, (amshyd's
Seven-ring'd Cup was typical of the 7 Heavens, 7 Planets,
7 Seas &c, and was a Divining Cup.'1'1 See also Appen-
dix III.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khaxyàm.

FitzGerald .hid David's lips are lockt ; but in divine

(VI ) High-piping Pehlevi, with " Wine! Wine! Wine!

1889 "Red Wine!'" — the Nightingale cries to the Rose

That sallow cheek of hers to' incarnadine.

(VI.) And David's Lips are lock't ; but in divine

1859 High-piping Péhlevi6 with " Wine ! Wine! Wine!

" Red Wine!'' — the Nightingale cries to the
Rose
That yellow Cheek7 of her's to'incarnadine.

Nicolas Aujourd'hui, le temps est agréable: il ne fait

(I53) ni chaud, ni froid. Les nuages lavent la poussière

qui s'est assise sur les roses, et le rossignol semble
crier aux fleurs jaunes qu'il faut boire du vin.

McCarthy To-day, the weather is pleasant, it is neither hot

(247) nor cold. The dew washes the dust from the face

of the roses, and the nightingale crieth to the
yellow flowers, saying, " Ye must drink wine."

Whinfield To-day how sweetly breathes the temperate air,
(,74) The rains have newly laved the parched parterre ;

(94, 1882) And Bulbuls cry in notes of ecstasy,

" Thou, too, O pallid rose, our wine must share ! "

Garner The Flowers upon the breeze their fragrance fling,

(t 3) The Bulbul's notes within the thicket ring,

Ah come recline beneath the Rose-tree's shade, —
The Rose that once has blown must die with
Spring.

Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyàm. 13

Weder heiss noch kalt ist's heute, ein prächtiges Bodenstedt
Wetter: (VIII. 23)

Frisch vom Regen gewaschen prangen Rosen-
kelche und Blätter

Und die Natchtigall scheint zu den gelben Blumen
zu singen :

Lasset auch Ihr von dem himmlischen Nass Euch
belebend durchdringen.

Wie schön ist die Erde nun wieder überall ! Von Schack

Die Winde waschen den Staub von den Rosen <284>

und Nelken,
Und zu den ermatteten spricht die Nachtigall :
" Erquickt Euch nun durch meinen Trank, ihr
welken ! "

Yellow being the mourning color in the East, the Night-
ingale addresses the flowers of this hue and consoles them for
the sadness.

FitzGerald says (5): " Pehlevi, the old Heroic Sanskrit of
Persia. Häfiz also speaks of the Nightingale's Pchlcvi, which
did not change with the People's.

(6) " I am not sure if the fourth line refers to the Red Rose
looking sickly, or to the Yellow Rose that ought to be Red ;
Red, White, and Yellow Roses all common in Persia. I
think that Sotithey in his Common-Place Book, quotes from
some Spanish author about the Rose being White till 10
o'clock ; • Rosa Perfecta ' at 2; and ' perfecta incarnada ' at 5."

FitzGerald
(VII.)

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyàm.

Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring
Your Winter-garment of Repentance fling :

The Bird of Time has but a little way
To flutter — and the Bird is on the Wing.

(VII.) Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring
•859 The Winter Garment of Repentance fling:

The Bird of Time has but a little way
To fly — and Lo ! the Bird is on the Wing.

Nicolas Un rossignol, ivre (d'amour pour la rose) étant

(79) entré dans le jardin, et voyant les roses et la coupe

de vin souriantes, vint me dire à l'oreille, dans un
langage approprié à la circonstance : Sois sur tes
gardes, ami, (et n'oublie pas) qu'on ne rattrape pas
la vie qui s'est écoulée.

McCarthy A love-lorn nightingale, straying into a garden,

(l67) and beholding the roses smiling, and the cup filled

with wine, flew to my ear and sang, " Be advised
friend, there is no recalling the vanished life."

Whinfield The Bulbul to the garden winged his way,
(81) Viewed lily cups, and roses smiling gay,

Cried in ecstatic notes, " O live your life,
You never will re-live this fleeting day."

Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam. 15

Eine Nachtigall, die trunken zum Garten flog, Bodenstedt

Wo ein Rosenkelch über den anderen sich bog, (x- •»>

Raunte in's Ohr mir : Erfasse das Glück
Des Lebens im Fluge: es kommt nicht zurück.

Als eine Nachtigall im Gartenhain

Die Rosen schaute und den Becher Wein, Von Schack

Sprach sie zu mir: " Versäumst du diese Zeit, (2'4>

O Freund, so holst du nie sie wieder ein."

l See also Rubd'iy XCVI.

1 6 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam.

PitzGerald Whether at Naishâpûr or Babylon,

(Viil.) Whether the Cup with sweet or bitter run,
1889 The Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop,

The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one.

Nicolas
(105)

Puisque la vie s'écoule, qu'importe qu'elle soit
douce ou arrière ? Puisque l'âme doit passer par
nos lèvres, qu'importe que ce soit à Nichapour
ou à Bèlkh ? Bois donc du vin, car après toi et
moi, la lune bien longtemps encore passera de son
dernier quartier à son premier, et de son premier
à son dernier.

McCarthy Since life flies, what matters it whether it be

(14S) sweet or bitter? Since our soul must escape
through our lips, what matters it whether it be at
Naishapur or Babylon ? Drink, then, for after
thou and I are dust, the moon will for many days
pass from her last to her first quarter, and from
her first to her last.

M. K. Since, bitter or sweet, Life ends so soon, why care,

Love ?
When the soul from the lip takes flight, what
matters it Where, Love?
Quaff wine ! — yon Moon that waxes and wanes
unceasing,
When you and I are gone, will still be there, Love !

Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam. i ;

When life is spent, what 's Balkh or Nishapore? Whinfield
What sweet or bitter, when the cup runs o'er ? (,34)

Come drink ! full many a moon will wax and
wane
In times to come, when we are here no more.

Our Life will end, it flies on foot amain, c.irner

What boots it whether passed in joy or pain d. 2I)

At Balkh or Naishapiir. Come, rill your Cup,
We die, — but still the Moon will wax and wane.

What reck we that our sands are run out in Balkh ^ (6)

or Babylon,
Or bitter be the draught or sweet, so once the

draught is done.
Drink then thy wine with me, for many a silver

moon
Shall wane and wax, for many a silver moon
Shall wane and wax when thou and I are gone.

Da die Tage uns'res Lebens rasch und unaufhalt- "Von Schack

sam schwinden, (6)

Da, ob morgen noch wir athmen, Keiner uns

vermag zu künden,
Lass, o du mein Mond, uns froh sein ! Ach der

Mond da droben wird
Oft noch um die Erde kreisen, ohne uns auf ihr

zu finden !

Whinfield, 73 (1S82), reads: —

When life is spent, who recks of joy or pain ?
Or cares in Naishapiir and Balkh lo reign '

Come, quaff your wine, for after ice are cone,
Moons w 'ill still wane and wax, and wax and wane.

1 8 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGerald Each Morn a thousand Roses brings, you say;
(IX.) Yes, but where leaves the Rose of Yesterday ?

1S89 ^tui tjtis ßrs[ Sum nier month that brings the

Rose
Shall take Jamshyd and KaikobAd away.

(Vlll.) And look — a thousand Blossoms with the Day
lS59 Woke — and a thousand scatter'd into Clay :

And this first Summer Month that brings the
Rose
Shall take Jamshyd and Kaikobâd away.

Nicolas Regarde comme le zéphyr a fait épanouir les

(370) roses ! Regarde comme leur éclatante beauté
réjouit le rossignol ! Va donc te reposer à
l'ombre de ces fleurs, va, car bien souvent elles
sont sorties de terre et bien souvent elles y sont
rentrées.

McCarthy Behold in the zephyr the robe of the rose ex-

(463) panding, the nightingale delighting in the beauty

of the rose ; sit in the shade of the rose, for many

times this rose from earth has come, and unto

earth has gone.

Rubàiyàt of O/na/- Khayyàm.

See how the zephyr tears the scarf of the rose M. K.

away ;
The rose's beauty charms the bulbul's woes away !
Go, sit in the shade of the rose, for every rose
That springs from the earth, again to earth soon
goes away !

Bulbuls, doting on roses, oft complain
How froward breezes rend their veils in twain ;
Sit we beneath this rose, which many a time
Has sunk to earth, and sprung from earth again.

Whinfield

(414)

Sieh, wie der Lenzhauch die Rosen erneut,
Sieh, wie ihre Schönheit die Nachtigall freut!
Freu' Dich auch, sitz' unter den Rosen nieder
So oft sie erblühten, verblühten sie wieder.

Bodenstedt
(VI. 15)

Sieh, wie der Rosen Knospenkleid zerrissen hat Von Schack
der Morgenwind ! (82)

Horch wie, von ihrem Reiz entzückt, die Nachti-
gall ihr Lied beginnt !
Ruh' zwischen diesen Rosen denn, und denk,
wie oft dem Erdenschoss

Sie schön entstiegen und dann neu in ihn hinab-
gesunken sind.

See Appendix IV for further comparisons.

See Appendix III for further mention of Jamshyd.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGerald Well, let it take tliem ! What have we to do
(X.) With Kaikobâd the Great, or Kaikhosrû ?

1889 j^ef £âl and Rustum bluster as they will,

Or Hâtiin call to Supper — heed not you.

(IX.) But come with old Khayyâm, and leave the Lot
,s59 Of Kaikobâd and Kaikhosru forgot :

Let Rustum lay about him as he will,8
Or Hâtim Tai cry Supper — heed them not.

(X.) Well, let it take them ! what have we to do

1868 With Kaikobâd the Great of Kaikhosni ?

Let Rustum cry " To Battle ! " as he likes,7
Or Hâtim Tai " To Supper! " — heed not you.

Nicolas Tant que tu auras en ton corps des os, des veines

(416) et des nerfs, ne pose pas ton pied en dehors des

limites de ta destinée. Ne cède jamais à ton
ennemi, cet ennemi fût-il Rostèm, fils de Zal ;
n'accepte rien qui puisse t'obliger envers ton ami,
cet ami fût-il Hâtèm-taï.

McCarthy While still you boast of bones, and veins and

(390) sinews, abide in the circle of your destiny. Yield

nothing to your enemy, were he Rustem, son of

Zal ; be under no bond of obligation to your

friend, were he Hatim Tai.

Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 2 1

So long as thy frame of flesh and of bone shall be, M. K.
Stir not one step outside Fate's hostelry; —

Bow to no foe — e'en Kustum or Zâl — thy
neck,
Take from no friend a gift, though Hatim he !

While thou dost wear this fleshly livery, Whinfield

Step not beyond the bounds of destiny; (455)

Bear up, though very Rustams be thy foes,
And crave no boon from friends like Hatim Tai.

Solang Du Knochen hast, Nerven und Adern im Bodenstedt
Leibe. (V. 38)

Immer standhaft im Haus Deines Schicksals ver-
bleibe.

Weich' keinem Feind, ob es Rüstern selber sei,

Nimm von keinem Freunde, und war' dieser
Hatem-tai.

FitzGerald, Edition III, 1S79, line 3, reads : —

Let Zâl and Rustum thunder as they will.
In Whinfield, 235 (1SS2) : —
Whilst thou dost wear . . . though puissant Rust am be thy

foe
And crave no guerdon e'en from Hatim Tai.

FitzGerald says (7) : —

"Rustum, the 'Hercules' of Persia, and Zâl his Father,
whose exploits are among the most celebrated in the Shâh-
nima. Hatim-Tai, a well-known type of Oriental Generosity."

See also Appendix III to Rubâ'iy V; Appendix IV to
Rubâ'iy IX.

22 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGerald With me along the strip of Herbage strown
(XI.) That just divides the desert from the sown,

l88 Where name of Slave and Sultan is forgot —

And Peace to Mahmud on his golden Throne !

(X.) With me along some Strip of Herbage strown

1859 That just divides the desert from the sown,

Where name of Slave and Sultan scarce
known,
And pity Sultan Màhmud on his Throne.

Nicolas

(413)

McCarthy
(449)

M. K.

Ce que je demande c'est un flacon de vin en
rubis, une œuvre de poésie, un instant de répit
dans la vie et la moitié d'un pain. Si avec cela
je pouvais, ami, demeurer près de toi, dans quelque
lieu en ruine, ce serait un bonheur préférable à
celui d'un sultan dans son royaume.

Give me a flagon of red wine, a book of verses,
a loaf of bread and a little idleness. If with such
store I might sit by thy dear side in some lonely
place, I should deem myself happier than a king
in his kingdom.

A flask of red wine, and a volume of song, to-
gether —

Half a loaf, — just enough the ravage of Want to
tether :
Such is my wish — then, thou in the waste with
me —

Oh ! sweeter were this than a monarch's crown
and feather !

Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyâm.

Give me a skin of wine, a crust of bread,
A pittance bare, a book of verse to read;

With thee, O love, to share my lowly roof,
I would not take the Sultan's realm instead !

Whinfield
(452)

A Flask of Wine, a book, a Loaf of Bread, —
To every Care and Worldly Sorrow dead,

I covet not, when thou, oh Love, art near,
The Jeweled Crown upon the Sultan's Head.

Garner
(1.8)

Wein. Brot, ein gutes Buch der Lieder: Bodenstedt

Liess ich damit selbst unter Trümmern mich nieder, (X. 16)
Den Menschen fern, bei Dir allein,
Würd' ich glücklicher als ein König sein.

Eine Flasche roten Weines und ein Büchlein mit Von Schack

Gedichten (125)

Und die Hälfte eines Brodes, Andres wünsch' ich

mir mit nichten ;
Dann nur irgend eine Wüste, um mit Dir darin

zu wohnen,
Und beneiden will ich fürder keinen Herrscher

von Millionen.

In Whinfield, 234 (1882), read, (1) a flask of wine, (2) a
quiet mind, (3) the Sultan'' s crown.

For further illustration of Ruba'iy XI, see Appendix V.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald

(XII.)

1889

(XI.)

.-/ Book of Verses underneath the Bough,

A fug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread — and Thou

Beside me singing in the Wilderness —
Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow !

Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough,
A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse — and Thou

Beside me singing in the Wilderness —
And Wilderness is Paradise enow.

Nicolas

(82)

McCarthy

(177)

Au printemps j'aime à m'asseoir au bord d'une
prairie, avec une idole semblable à une houri et
une cruche de vin, s'il y en a, et bien que tout cela
soit généralement blâmé, je veux être pire qu'un
chien si jamais je songe au paradis.

In Spring time I love to sit in the meadow with
a paramour perfect as a Houri and a goodly jar
of wine, and though I may be blamed for this, yet
hold me lower than a dog if ever I dream of
Paradise.

M. K

In the Springtime, biding with one who is houri-

fair,
And a flask of wine, if 't is to be had — somewhere
On the tillage's grassy skirt — Alack ! though

most
May think it a sin, I feel that my heaven is there !

Rubâiyât <>J Omar Khayyam.

In the sweet spring a grassy hank I sought
And thither wine and a fair Houri brought ;

And, though the people called me graceless dog,
Gave not to Paradise another thought !

Whiniield
(84)

Yes, Loved One, when the Laughing Spring

is blowing,
With Thee beside me and the Cup o'ernowing,

I pass the day upon this Waving Meadow,
And dream the while, no thought on Heaven

bestowin«"'.

Garner
(I. 20)

Im Frühling, wenn mir ein Ilurisgesicht

Die Kanne Weines schäumend reicht als
Schenke,
(So schändlich diess auch däucht gemeinen Wicht)
Bin ich ein Hund, wenn ich ans Paradies
gedenke.

Von
Hammer-
Purgstall

Im Frühling mag ich gern im Grünen weilen
Und Einsamkeit mit einer Freundin teilen
Und einem Kruge Wein. Mag man mich schelten:
Ich lasse keinen andern Himmel gelten.

Bodenstedt

(IX. s.,)

Gönnt mir, mit dem Liebchen im Gartenrund
Zu weilen bei süssem Rebengetränke,

Und nennt mich schlimmer als einen Hund,
Wenn ferner an's Paradies ich denke !

Von Schack
(151)

For FitzGerald, XII (1868), and Whinfield, 39 (1882), etc.,
see Appendix V.

Rubdiyât of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGerald Some for the Glories of this World; and some
(XIII.) Sigh for the Prophet's Paradise to come ;
!889 Ah, take the Cash, and let the Credit go,

Nor heed the rumble of a distant Dram !

(XII.)

is59

" How sweet is mortal Sovranty ! " — think some :
Others — " How blest the Paradise to come ! "

Ah, take the Cash in hand and wave the Rest ;
Oh, the brave Music of a distant Drum ! 9

Nicolas

(92)

McCarthy

(3'4;

Je ne sais pas du tout si celui qui m'a créé
appartenait au paradis délicieux ou à l'enfer
détestable. (Mais je sais) qu'une coupe de vin,
une charmante idole et une cithare au bord d'une
prairie, sont trois choses dont je jouis présente-
ment, et que toi tu vis sur la promesse qu'on te
fait d'un paradis futur.

I know not if he who created me belongs to
happy Paradise or terrible Hell, but I know that
a cup of wine, a fair paramour, and a lute on the
borders of a pleasant land, rejoice my heart in this
present hour, and that thou livest on the promise
of a future Paradise.

M. K. I know not if He who kneaded my clay to man

Belong to the host of Heaven or the Hellish
clan ; —
A life mid the meadows, with Woman, and
Music, and Wine,
Heaven's cash is to me; — let Heaven's credit thy
fancy trepan !

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm.

Did He who made me fashion me for hell, Whinfield

Or destine me for heaven ? I can not tell. (94)

Yet will I not renounce cup, lute and love,
Nor earthly cash for heavenly credit sell.

They preach how sweet those Houri brides will be 0°8)

But I say wine is sweeter — taste and see !

Hold fast this cash, and let that credit go,
And shun the din of empty drums like me.

With Nature's secrets be thou not perplexed, Garner

Enjoy this World and do not fear the Next, (m. 6)

Ah, seize this little Breath of Life as Cash,
With That to come let not thy Heart be vexed.

Der sprichst mir von Huris, vom Paradiese, Von
Von Edens lusterfüllter goldner Wiese. Hammer-
Gel) nimm den Pfennig hin und lass mich geh'n Purgstall
Von ferne nur hört sich die Trommel schön.

Ich weiss nicht, wer zu diesem Sein auf Erden Von Schaek

mich erschaffen hat, (245)

Ob es ein guter Himmelsgeist, ob es ein böser

Dämon that :
Das aber weiss ich : heut ercpückt mich guter

Wein an Leib und Geist,
Und erst in weiter Ferne liegt der Himmel, den

man dir verheisst.

The last two lines of FitzGcrald's second edition (XV,
1 868) read: —

Ah, take the Cash, and let the Promise go,
Nor heed the music of a distant Drum .'
He says in his brief note (S) : "A Drum — beaten outside a
Palace."
See Rubâ'iy LXII and Appendix VI.

28 Rubdiyât of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGerald Look to the blowing Rose about us — " I.o,

(XIV.)
1889

i»59

" Laughing" she says, " into the world I blow,

" At once the silken tassel of my P terse
" Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw.'1''

(Xiii.) Look to the Rose that blows about us — " Lo,

" Laughing,*' she says, " into the World I blow :

" At once the silken Tassel of my Purse
" Tear, and its Treasure 10 on the Garden throw."

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 29

Quoth rose, " I am the Vusuf flower, I swear, Whinfield

For in my mouth rich golden gems I bear."

I said, " Show me another proof." Quoth she,
" Behold this blood-stained vesture that I wear."

The rose said, " I am the Yusuf flower, for my McCarthy
mouth is full of gold and jewels." I said, " If (4)

thou art the Yusuf flower, show me a certain sign
thereof." And she made answer, " Perchance
that I am garbed in a blood-drenched garment."

FitzGerald's note (9) : " That is, the Rose's Golden Centre."

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald And those who husbanded the Golden grain,

(XV.) And those who flung it to the winds like Rain,
1889 Alike to 710 such aureate Earth are turned

1859 As, buried of ice, Men want dug up again.

Nicolas o idole ! avant que le chagrin vienne t'assaillir,

(r56) ordonne de nous servir du vin couleur de rose.

Tu n'es pas d'or, toi, ô insouciant imbécile ! pour

croire qu'après t'avoir enfoui dans la terre on t'en

retirera.

McCarthy O, beloved, before care seizeth thee, bid them

(277> serve us with wine the colour of roses. Thou art

not made of gold, O thoughtless fool, that thou

shouldst hope to be dug up after thou art laid in

the earth.

M. K. Darling, ere griefs our nightly couch enfold again,

Bid wine be brought, red sparkling as of old, again !

— And thou, weak fool ! think not that thou art

gold:

When buried, none will dig thee up from the

mould again !

Whinfield Ere you succumb to shocks of mortal pain,

(175) The rosy grape-juice from your wine-cup drain.

You are not gold, that, hidden in the earth,
Your friends should care to dig you up again !

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 31

Yes, bid the Sâki fill the Brimming .Measure, Garner

And may thy closing days be spent in Pleasure, (L 33>

For, when thy Dust within the Ground is laid,
'T will ne'er be sought as some long buried Trea-

Eh' Du ein Opfer wirst der Pein des Lebens,
O Holde, trink den rosigen Wein des Lebens.
Der Thor nur glaubt, dass man wie Gold ihn

nieder
In 's Grab senkt und als Gold herauszieht wieder.

Wliinfield, 05 (1SS2), reads: —

Ere you succumb to shocks of mortal pain,
Your roses gather, and your winecufs drain ;

You arc not gold, and once entombed in earth,
No one will care to dig you up again.

Bodenstedt

(VI. s)

32 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald The Worldly Hope t?ien set their Hearts upon
(XVI.) Turns Ashes — or it prospers ; and anon,
Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face,
Lighting a little hour or two — was gone.

(Xiv.) The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon
Turns Ashes — or it prospers ; and anon,

Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face
Lighting a little Hour or two — is gone.

Rubdiyât of Omar Khayyâm. t>2>

O soul ! lay up all earthly goods in store, Whinfield

Thy mead with pleasure's flowerets spangle o'er, <2-<3)

And know 't is all as dew, that decks the flowers
For one short night, and then is seen no more.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald Think, in this batter d Caravanserai

(XVII.; Whose Portals are alternate Night and Day,
1889 How Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp

Abode his destined Hour, and went his way.

(XVI.) Think, in this batter'd Caravanserai
1859 Whose Doorways are alternate Night and Day,

How Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp
Abode his Hour or two, and went his way.

Nicolas Ce vieux caravansérail que l'on nomme le monde,

(67) ce séjour alternatif de la lumière et des ténèbres,

n'est qu'un reste de festin de cent potentats comme

Djèmchid. Ce n'est qu'une tombe servant d'oreiller

à cent monarques comme Bèhram.

McCarthy This aged caravanserai which men call the world,

(140) this alternating home of light and night, is but the

fag end of a feast of a hundred such lords as

Jamshid. It is but a tomb serving as a pillow for

the sleep of a hundred such kings as Bahram.

M. K. This old inn call'd the world, that man shelters his

head in,
(Pied curtains of Dawn and of Dusk o'er it
spreading;) —
'Tis the banqueting-hall many Jamshids have
quitted,
The couch many Bahrains have found their last
bed in !

Riibâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 35

What is the world ? A caravanserai, Whinfield
A pied pavilion of night and day ; (7°)

A feast whereat a thousand Jamsheds sat, (34> "882)

A couch whereon a thousand Bahrains lay.

This World is nothing but an Inn decayed, Gamer

A transient Resting Place of Light and Shade, (VH- 2>

A Banquet which a thousand Jamsheds left, a
tomb,
Wherein a thousand Bahrdm-Gours are laid.

Dies alte Karawanserai, genannt die Welt, Bodenstedt

Bald nächtig dunkel, bald vom Tag erhellt, (VIII. 5)

Ist nur ein Rest von alten Herrlichkeiten,
Ein Grab von Königen, hochgerühmt vor Zeiten.

Dieses alte, morsche Gasthaus, das man auch die Von Schack
Erde heisst, (-*8)

Das bald tief in Dunkel nachtet, bald mit hellem
Lichte gleisst,

Ist ein Abfall nur vom Feste, welches hundert
Kön'ge gaben,

Ist ein Grab nur, d'rin zum langen Schlaf sie hin-
gestreckt sich haben.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald They say the Lion and the Lizard keep

(XVIII.) The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank
1S89 deep :

AudBahrdm, that great Hunter — the Wild Ass
Stamps o'er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep.

(XVII.)

1859

Nicolas

(69)

McCarthy
(15O

M. K.

They say the Lion and the Lizard keep
The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank
deep : u
And Bahrain, that great Hunter — the Wild Ass
Stamps o'er his Head, and lie lies fast asleep.

Ce palais où Bèhram aimait à prendre la coupe
dans sa main (est maintenant transformé en une
plaine déserte) où la gazelle met bas, où le lion se
repose. Vois ce Bèhram cpii, au moyen d'un lacet,
prenait les ânes sauvages, vois comme la tombe
à son tour a pris ce même Bèhram.

The palace, where Bahrain loved to troll the
bowl, is now the resting-place of stags, the lair of
lions. See how this Bahrain who loved to snare
the wild ass with a running noose is snared himself
in his turn by the tomb.

Here, where Bahrain oft filled his Chalice high,

elate,
Now, beasts of prey the ruined palace violate ; —
Like the wild ass he lassoed, the great Hunter
Lies in the noose of Huntsman Death, annihilate.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm.

Here in this palace, where Bahrain held sway, Whinfield

The wild roes drop their young, and tigers stray; (72)

And that great hunter king — -ah ! well-a-day ! (35, 1SS2)
Now to the hunter death is fallen a prey.

Now, here where Bahrain lived in wild carouse, Garner
The Lion sleeps, the Deer are wont to brousc, (I. 10)

Though oft he followed them with bow and Spear,
They never will his Final Slumbers rouse.

Wüst liegt der Palast,

Wo einst Behram geprasst.
Jetzt scheucht von der Stelle

Der Leu die Gazelle.
Wo der König im Jagen

Wilde Esel erschlagen,
Versank er im Sumpfe

Beim Eselstriumphe.

Bodenstedt

(VIII. 6)

Dieses Schloss, in welchem Bahrain froh den Von Schack

Becher oft gefüllt, (199)

Dient Gazellen nun zum Lager, wird von Löwen

nun durchbrüllt.
Der auf Jagd der wilden Esel mit dem Fangstrick

oft gegangen,
O wie lang schon von des Todes Fangstrick ist

er selbst gefangen !

See Appendix VII.

38 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald / sometimes think that never blows so red

The Rose as where some buried Cœsar bled;

1889

That every Hyacinth the Garden wears

Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head.

(XVlll.) I sometimes think that never blows so red
l859 The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled;

That every Hyacinth the Garden wears
Dropt in its Lap from some once lovely Head.

Whinfield Where'er you see a rose or tulip bed,

(104) Know that a mighty monarch's blood was shed ;

And where the violet rears her purple tuft,
Be sure a black-moled girl hath laid her head.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 39

Erblickt ihr eine Rose, prächtig rot, Von Schack

So denkt : darunter ruht ein mächt'ger König tot;
Und seht ihr einen Krokus blüh'n, so glaubt:
Ein schönes Weib, nun tot, verlor ihn einst vom
Haupt.

In Whinfield, 58 (1SS2), read, " some mighty monarch,"1
" its purple tuft," " some black moled maiden rests her head.''

4°

Kubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGerald And this reviving Herb whose tender Green
(XX.) Fledges the River-Lip on which we lean —
1889 Ah, lean upon it lightly ! for who knows

From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen !

(\ix.) And this delightful Herb whose tender Green
1S59 Fledges the River's Lip on which we lean —

Ah, lean upon it lightly ! for who knows
From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen !

Nicolas Qu'elles sont belles, ces verdures qui croissent

(59) aux bords des ruisseaux ! On dirait qu'elles ont

pris naissance sur les lèvres d'une angélique
beauté. Ne pose donc pas sur elles ton pied avec
dédain, puisqu'elles proviennent du germe de la
poussière d'un visage coloré du teint de la tulipe.

McCarthy How fair are the green fringes of the living

(123) stream. Surely they sprang once from the lip of

some celestial fair. Trample them not with scorn,

for they spring from the dust of a tulip-tinted face.

M. K.

The verdure sweet yon rivulet's bank arraying
there,

"'T is the down on an angel's lip," in homely say-
ing, there —
O tread not thereon disdainfully ! — it springeth

From the dust of some tulip-cheek that lies decay-
ing there !

Rubàiyât oj Omar Khayyâm. 41

Yon turf, fringing the margent of tbe stream, Whinfield.

As down upon a cherub's lip might seem,

Or growth from dust of buried tulip clacks;
Tread not that turf with scorn, or light esteem !

The Violets that by this River grow, Garner

Spring from some Lip here buried long ago : — 0- s)

And tread thou lightly on this Tender Green,
Who sleepeth here so still, thou ne'er wilt know.

So schön, wie den schönsten Lippen entsprungen Bodenstedt
Hält der blumige Rasen den Bach umschlungen. (VI 24)

Betritt nicht verächtlich dies zarte Grün,
Urin vergangene Schönheiten neu erblühn.

Wie lieblich wieder nun Alles ward ! Von Schack

Wie zart ist des Rasens duftendes Grün ! (84)

Komm', lass uns des Frühlings gemessen,
Doch tritt auf die Halme nicht zu hart,

Denn rosig hat einst das Gesicht geblüht,
aus dessen Staube sie spriessen.

Line i in the second edition of FitzGerald (XXV, 1S6S)
reads : —

And this delightful Herb whose living Green.
Whinlield, 31 (18S2), is as follows : —
Sec how the grass yon river marge doth grace,
So springs the down upon a cherub's face,

Tread not this grass with scorn, perchance it springs
From some poor buried beauty's cold embrace.
See Appendix VIII.

42 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald Ah, my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears
(XXI.) To-day of past Regrets and future Fears :
lgSg To-morrow ! — Why, To-morrow I may be

Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n thousand Years.

(XX.) Ah, my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears
1859 To-day of past Regrets and future Fears —

To-morrow? — Why, To-morrow I may be
Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n Thousand Years.12

Nicolas O ami ! viens à moi, ne nous soucions pas du

(269) jour de demain et considérons comme un butin ce

court instant d'existence. Demain, quand nous
aurons abandonné cette vieille résidence (le monde),
nous serons les compagnons contemporains de
ceux qui l'ont quittée depuis sept mille ans !

McCarthy O my friend, come hither, let us forget to-day

(194) and to-morrow, and steal this one short hour of

life. When to-morrow we shall have abandoned
this old dwelling-place, we shall become the con-
temporaries of all those who departed hence for
the last seven thousand years.

M. K. Let not the morrow make thee, friend, down-

hearted !
Draw profit of the day yet undeparted :

We '11 join, when we to-morrow leave this man-
sion,
The band seven thousand years ago that started !

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 43

O let us not forecast to-morrow's fears, Whinneld

But count to-day as gain, my brave compeers ! (312)

To-morrow we shall quit this inn, and march
With comrades who have marched seven thousand
years.

Komm, Freund, wir wollen nicht sorgen um Bodenstedt
morgen, (VIII. 3S)

Wir halten als Beute das Gute von heute geborgen.

Verlassen wir morgen dann dies alte Gasthaus —
die Welt,—

So werden wir Allen, die vor uns bewohnt dieses
Rasthaus, gesellt.

Freund ! lass jeglichen Gedanken an die Zukunft Von Schack
uns begraben ! (30*)

An der Lust des Augenblickes muss sich der
Verständ'ge laben !
Morgen, wenn wir sterben müssen, werden wir
Genossen derer,

Die vor siebentausend Jahren diese Welt ver-
lassen haben.

FitzGerald's note (n) says: —

"A thousand years to each Planet."

The first two lines of Whinfield, 167 (1882), read: —
Ah, why forecast to-morrow'1 s hopes and fear si
To-day at least is ours, O cavaliers.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGerald For some we loved, the loveliest and the best
(xxii.) That from his Vintage rolling Time hath prest,
Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before,
And one by one crept silently to rest.

(XXI.) Lo! some we loved, the loveliest and best
l859 That Time and Fate of all their Vintage prest,

Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before,
And one by one crept silently to Rest.

Whinfield My comrades all are gone ; Death, deadly foe,
(2ig) Has caught them one by one, and trampled low ;

They shared life's feast, and drank its wine with
me,
But lost their heads, and dropped a while ago.

Garner In Earth's Dark Bosom, Myriads of the Best

(v 7) That She has known, disheartened in their Quest
For Truth, are sleeping, while the Waste of
Naught
Is thronged with Those to come, and Those at rest.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 45

O grimm'ges Schicksal ! nichts als nur Verheerung Von Schack
Übst du seit Anbeginn und als Zerstörung! (3°°^

Und du, o Erde ! wie viel Weise. Grosse
Und Edle ruhen schon in deinem Schosse !

In the second and third editions of Fitzgerald, the second
line reads : —

That from his Vintage rolling time has pr est.

Rubâiyât of- Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald And we, that now »take merry in the Room
(XXlll.) They left, and Summer dresses in new bloom,
1889 Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth

Descend — ourselves to make a Couch — for whom ?

(XXI r.) And we, that now make merry in the Room
1S59 They left, and Summer dresses in new Bloom,

Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth
Descend, ourselves to make a Couch — for whom?

Nicolas Les nuages se répandent dans le ciel et recom-

(70) mencent à pleurer sur le gazon. Oh ! il n'est plus

possible de vivre un instant sans vin couleur d'ama-
rante. Cette verdure réjouit aujourd'hui notre
vue, mais celle qui germera de notre poussière, la
vue de qui réjoui ra-t-elle?

McCarthy The clouds spread over the face of the heavens,

(156) and rain patters on the sward. How could it be
possible to live for a single second without crimson
wine ? This green before me delights my eye, but
the grass which shall spring from my dust whose
eye will delight in ?

Whinfleld Down fall the tears from skies enwrapt in gloom,
(73) Without this drink, the flowers would never bloom !

As now these flowerets yield delight to me,
So shall my dust yield flowers — God knows for
whom.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 47

This Tufted Mead is sprinkled by the Rain Garner

With all its Flowers which our Senses chain, — (I- '7

Ere long the Flowers from our Dust will
spring, —
Whose sight will they rejoice ? A Question vain.

Der Regen fällt munter Bodenstedt

Auf den Rasen herunter: (VIII. 92)

Wie dem Rasen der Regen,

Sei der Wein uns zum Segen !
Wer wohl einst sich erfreut

An dem Grün, wie wir heut ;
Das dem Boden entsprungen,

Der uns selber verschlungen !

Frisch nach dem Regen strahlt das Grün auf allen Von Schack

Rasenplätzen : <5°)

Wer möchte sich in solcher Zeit am Weingenuss

nicht letzen ?
Heut freu'n wir uns an diesem Grün: doch

jenes, das dereinst
Auf unserm Grabe spriessen wird, wer wird sich

d'ran ergötzen?

48 Rubàiyài of Ornai- Khayyàm.

FitzGerald Ah, make the most of what %ue yet may spend,
(XXIV.) Before we too into tlie Dust descend;
18S9 Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie,

Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and — sans
End I

(xxni.) Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,
1S59 Before we too into the Dust descend ;

Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie,
Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and — sans
End!

Nicolas

(34?)

Cette roue des cieux court après ma mort et la
tienne, ami ; elle conspire contre mon âme et la
tienne. Viens, viens t'asseoir sur le gazon, car
bien peu de temps nous reste encore avant que
d'autre gazon germe de ma poussière et de la
tienne.

McCarthy This wheel of heaven seeks my destruction and

(3SS) thine, it plots against my soul and thine. Come,

seat thyself upon the grass, for in a little while

fresh grass will spring from this dust of mine and

thine.

M. K. The wheel of Heaven thy death and mine is bring-

ing, friend !
Over our lives the cloud of doom 't is flinging,
friend !
Come, sit upon this turf, for little time is left
Ere fresher turf shall from our dust be springing,
friend !

Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam.

O Love, for ever doth heaven's wheel design Whinfield

To take away thy precious life, and mine ; (390)

Sit we upon this turf, 't will not be long
Ere turf shall grow upon my dust, and thine !

The 'wheel of heaven' in its Fatal Play Garner

Will soon our Breath of Being steal away, — (ill. 3)

Come rest thee on this bank, for from our dust
Will spring the Verdure at no distant day.

Das Himmelsrad läuft noch, wenn Du und ich Bodenstedt
längst geschieden, (VIII. 58)

Es lässt weder Deine noch meine Seele in Frieden.

Komm, setz' Dich in's Grün ; nur kurze Zeit wird
vergehen,

Eh anderes Grün wird aus Deinem und meinem
Staube erstehen.

Dieses rollende Rad des Himmels ist zu unser'm Von Schack

Tod verschworen, ^ j

Und, sobald's uns eingeholt hat, Freund, sind du

und ich verloren !
Ruh mit mir denn auf dem Rasen ! Kurze Zeit nur

wird verfhessen,
Ach ! und über unser'm Staube wird ein neuer

Rasen spriessen !

Whinfield, 205 (1S82), reads: —

The wheel of heaven still holds his set design
To take away thy life, O love and mine.

Sit we on this green turf, 'twill not be long
Ere turf will hide my dust along with thine.
" M. K." regards Rubâ'iy XXIV as "complementary to the
sense of XXII i, with an addition not in the Persian." He
derives XXIII from Nicolas, 348.
See Appendixes IX and XXX.

5°

Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald Alike for those who for Today prepare,
(XXV.) And those that after some To-morrow stare,
1889 ^4 Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries,

" Fools ! your Reward is neither Here nor There."

(xxiv.) Alike for those who for To-day prepare,
•859 And those that after a To-morrow stare,

A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries
" Fools ! your Reward is neither Here nor There ! "

Nicolas Une multitude d'hommes réfléchissent sur les

(337) croyances, sur les religions ; d'autres sont clans la

stupéfaction entre le doute et la certitude. Tout à

coup, celui qui est à l'affût criera : " O ignorants !
la voie que vous cherchez n'est ni là, ni là."

McCarthy Some meditate of religions and beliefs, some

(434) sway bewildered betwixt doubt and knowledge.
Suddenly the watcher cries, " Fools, your road is
not here nor there."

M. K. Myriad minds at work, of sects and creeds to

learn,

The Doubtful from the Sure all puzzled to discern :

Suddenly from the Dark the crier raised a cry —

" Not this, nor that, ye fools ! the path that ye

must turn ! "

Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 5 1

Some look for truth in creeds, and forms, and Whinfield

rules ; ("6)

Some grope for doubts or dogmas in the schools;

But from behind the veil a voice proclaims,
" Your road lies neither here nor there, O fools."

Viele Menschen grübeln über Glauben und Sitte, Bodenstedt
Zwischen Zweifel und Gewissheit stehn viele in (VIII. 53)

der Mitte.
Unversehens ruft Einer aus dem Hinterhalt her:
Ihr Thoren, der rechte Weg ist nicht dieser noch

der!

Über die Religionen sinnen Viele und die Glau- Von Schack
benssekten, (g)

Zwischen Zuversicht und Zweifel schwanken
And're fort und fort ;
Doch ein Ruf wird einst ertönen: "O ihr
Geistesnacht-Bedeckten,
Wisst, der wahre Weg zum Heile liegt nicht hier
und Hegt nicht dort."

In Whinfield, 19S (1SS2), rites instead of forms.

Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGerald Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss 'd
(XXVI.) Of the Two Worlds so wisely — they are thrust
lS8g Like foolish Prophets forth j their Words to

Scorn
Are scattered, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust.

(xxv.) Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd
1859 Of the Two Worlds so learnedly, are thrust

Like foolish Prophets forth ; their Words to
Scorn
Are scatter'd, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust.

Nicolas Ceux qui par la science sont la crème de ce

(,20) monde, qui par l'intelligence parcourent les hau-
teurs des cieux, ceux-là aussi, pareils au firma-
ment dans leur recherche des connaissances
sublimes, ont la tête renversée, prise de vertige et
d'éblouissement.

McCarthy Those who by their learning are the elect of

(252) the world, who by their intellect climb the heights

of heaven, those who scale the firmament in their

search after the things of divine wisdom, lose their

wits, seized with dizziness and all amazement.

M. K. The learned, the cream of mankind, who have

driven
Intellect's chariot over the heights of heaven —
Void and o'erturned, like that blue sky they
trace,
Are dazed, when they to measure Thee have
striven !

Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyàm. 53

They at whose lore the whole world stands amazed, Whinfield
Whose high thoughts, like Borâk, to heaven are (147)

raised,
Strive to know Thee in vain, and like heaven's

wheel
Their heads are turning, and their brains are

dazed.

Selbst die Leuchten des Wissens dieser Welt, Bodenstedt

Deren Geist noch Licht zu den Sternen gesellt, (iv. 3)
Sind, wie diese, im Verständnis

Des Göttlichen noch in Verblendnis,
Mit schwindelndem Haupt im Drehen,

Mit schwindelndem Haupt im Sehen,
Geblendet von allem Glänze

Im forschenden Blick auf das Ganze.

Solchen selbst, auf deren Wissen alle Welt be- Von Schack

wundernd schaut, (267)

Deren Geist des höchsten Fluges durch den

Himmel sich getraut,
Ja auch ihnen, wenn der Dinge Urgrund sie

ergründen wollen,
Wird es schwindeln, und sie wissen nicht mehr

was sie sagen sollen.

Line two in the second and third editions of FitzGerald
reads : —

Of the T?co Worlds so learnedly, arc thrust.

In Whinfield, 82 (18S2), in the first line, read wide instead of
whole ; and the second line is : —

Whose thoughts above high heaven' s self are raised.

Boiak : Muhammad's steed on which he mounted to paradise.
See Appendix X.

Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGerald Myself when y ou tig did eagerly frequent
(XXVII.) Doctor and Saint, and heard great argument
l88 About it and about : but evermore

Came out by the same door where in I went.

(XXVII ) Myself when young did eagerly frequent
,859 Doctor and Saint, and heard great Argument

About it and about : but evermore
Came out by the same Door as in I went.

Nicolas Semblable à un épervier, je me suis envolé du

(225) monde des mystères, espérant m'élever vers un
monde plus haut ; mais, tombé ici-bas et n'y
trouvant personne cligne de partager mes secrètes
pensées, je suis ressorti par la porte par laquelle
j'étais entré.

McCarthy I have flown like a sparrow-hawk forth from

(4o) this world of mysteries, in the hope of reaching a

higher sphere. But, fallen again to the earth, and
finding none worthy of sharing the hidden thoughts
of my heart, I have gone forth again by the door
through which I came.

M. K.

Whinfleld
(264)

Forth, like a hawk, from Mystery's world I fly,
Seeking escape to win from the Low to the High :
But finding none that more of it knows than I,
Out through the door I go that I entered by !

I flew here, as a bird from the wild, in aim
Up to a higher nest my course to frame ;

But, finding here no guide who knows the way,
Fly out by the same door where through I came.

Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam. 55

Aus der Welt der Geheimnisse wollt' ich ent- Bodenstedt
schweben, (V. iS)

In eine höhere Welt hofft' ich mich zu erheben,
Wie ein Sperber war ich emporgeflogen,

Doch ward ich zur Erde zurückgezogen,
Und da ich hier Niemand gesehen

Im Stande mich zu verstehen,
So bleibt mir von diesem Leidenshorte

Kein Ausgang als die Eingangspforte.

Wie ein Falk entflog ich jener Welt der Geister, Von Schack

um von dort (143)

Höh're Welten zu erfliegen ; doch an diesen

nieder'n Ort
Sank ich hin, und, da ich fremd mich hier und

unverstanden sah,
Auf dem Weg, den ich gekommen, flieg' ich nun

von Neuem fort.

The last line of Edition II of FitzGerald (XXX, 1868)
reads : —

Came out by the same door as in I went.

The last line of Whinfield, 143 (1SS2), is : —

Fly out by that same door through which I came.
See Appendix XI.

56 Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyàm.

FitzGerald With them the seed of Wisdom did I sow,

^ '' And with mine own hand wrought to make it grow j

1889

And this was all the Harvest that I reaped —

" I came like Water, and like Wind I go"

(XXViii.) With them the Seed of Wisdom did I sow,
And with my own hand labour'd it to grow :

And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd —
" I came like Water, and like Wind I go.

Whinfield I studied with the masters long ago,

(353) And long ago did master all they know ;

Hear now the end and issue of it all,
From earth I came, and like the wind I go.

In the second and third edition of FitzGerald, line two reads :

And with my ozvti hand wrought to make it grow.
Von Schack, 183, is translated from the English.
In Whinfield, 1S5 (1882), the last two lines read:
What is the end and issue of it all?
" / came like water and like wind I go."

Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyàm. 57

A somewhat analogous thought inspires the
following : —

Jusqu'à quand seras-tu la dupe des couleurs Nicolas
et des parfums d'ici-bas ? Quand cesseras-tu tes (132)

recherches sur le bien et le mal ? Fusses-tu la
source de Zèmzèm, fusses-tu même l'eau de la
vie que tu ne saurais éviter d'entrer dans le sein de
la terre.

How long will you remain the dupe of this world's McCarthy-
delicate dyes and odours? When will you cease (2II>
from vexing about the good and the bad ? Were
you the fountain of youth, were you the very water
of life itself, that should not save you from sinking
into the bosom of the earth.

Why toil ye to ensue illusions vain, Whinfield

And good or evil of the world attain ? ('58)

Ye rise like Zamzam, or the fount of life,
And, like them, in earth's bosom sink again.

Wie lange wirst Du Dich von Düften und Farben Bodenstedt

blenden lassen ? (in. 13)

Wann Dein Forschen über Gutes und Böses enden

lassen ?
Und wärest Du der Lebensquell selber, Du

müsstest
Es doch bei der Rückkehr zum Staube bewenden

lassen.

58 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzO-erald Into this Universe, and Why not knowing
(XXix.) Nor Whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing ;
1889 And ont of it, as Wind along the Waste,

I know not Whither, willy-nilly blowing.

(XXix.) Into this Universe, and why not knowing,
^59 Nor whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing:

And out of it, as Wind along the Waste,
I know not whither, willy-nilly blowing.

Nicolas Mon tour d'existence s'est écoulé en quelques

(22) jours. Il est passé comme passe le vent du désert.

Aussi, tant qu'il me restera un souffle de vie, il y

a deux jours dont je ne m'inquiéterai jamais, c'est

le jour qui n'est pas venu et celui qui est passé.

McCarthy My run of life slips by in a few days. It has

(51) passed me by like the wind of the desert. There-

fore, so long as one breath of life is left to me,
there are two days with which I shall never vex my
spirit, the day that has not yet come, and the day
that has gone by.

M. K. This life is but three days' space, and it speeds

apace,
Like wind that sweeps away o'er the desert's face :
So long as it lasts, two days ne'er trouble my
mind,
— The day undawned, and the day that has run its
race.

Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 59

My life lasts but a day or two, and fast
Sweeps by, like torrent stream or desert blast,

Hovvbeit, of two days I take no heed, —
The day to come, and that already past.

A few short Fleeting Days, — our Life flies fast,
'T is gone, it flies as flies the Desert-blast,
But yet there are two days of neither Joy
Nor Pain, the Day to come, the Day now past.

Whinfield

(26)
(12, 1882)

Garner
(I. 24)

As sweeps the plain the hurrying wind, as flows *"

the rippling stream,
So yesterday from our two lives has passed and

is a dream ;
And while I live, these to my soul shall bring nor

hope, nor dread,
The morrow that may never come, the yesterday

that fled.

Schnell, wie der Wüstenwind entflieht mein Leben, Bodenstedt
Allein solang mir Odem noch gegeben, (VIII. 90)

Mach' ich mir um zwei Tage keinen Gram :
Den Tag, der schon verging, und den, der noch
nicht kam.

See Appendix XII.

Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGerald
(XXX.)

18S9
(XXX.)

1859

(XXXIII.)

I86S

Whinfield
(110)

(64, 1882)

What, without asking, hither hurried Whence ?
And, without asking, Whither hurried hence !

Oh, many a Cup of this forbidden Wine
Must drown the memory of that insolence !

What, without asking, hither hurried whence?
And, without asking, whither hurried hence!

Another and another Cup to drown
The Memory of this Impertinence!

What, without asking, hither hurried whence
And, without asking, whither hurried hence!

Ah, contrite Heav'n endowed us with the Vine
To drug the memory of that insolence.

I came not hither of my own free will,
And go against my wish, a puppet still ;

Cupbearer! gird thy loins, and fetch some wine;
To purge the world's despite, my goblet fill.

Von Schack Der Mensch kam auf die Welt und wurde nicht

(146) gefr"agri

Ihn fragen wird man nicht, wenn man hinweg ihn

jagt ;
So gab der Himmel ihm die Traube zum

Geschenke,
Damit er, weinberauscht, der Unbill nicht

gedenke.

Nicolas D'abord, il m'a donné l'être sans mon assenti-

(ii7) ment, ce qui fait que ma propre existence me

jette dans la stupéfaction.* Ensuite, nous quittons

ce monde à regret et sans y avoir compris le but

de notre venue, de notre halte, de notre départ.

* Agitation, surprise, trouble.

Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 61

At the first, life was given unto me without my McCarthy
consent, therefore my own existence filled me with (l88)

astonishment. Finally, with regret we lapse out
of this world, understanding neither the purpose of
our coming, our stay, nor our departure.

He brought me hither, and I felt surprise, Whinfield

From life I gather but a dark surmise, (i45)

I go against my will; — thus, why I come,
Why live, why go, are all dark mysteries.

Ungefragt kam ich zur Welt, staunend mich Bodenstedt
darin zu sehen ; (vm. 3)

Ungefragt muss ich hinaus, ohne sie noch zu
verstehen,

Ohne nur den Grund zu ahnen meines Kommens
oder Scheidens,

Und — solang ich atmend leide — dieses rätsel-
vollen Leidens.

Ohne meinen Willen hat er mir zuerst das Sein Von Shack

gegeben (,2)

Und mit Staunen und Verwundr'ung schau' ich

an mein eig'nes Leben.
L^ns zum Kummer aus der Welt dann werden

wir hinweggerissen,
Ohne uns'res Kommens, uns'res Gehens Zweck

und Ziel zu wissen.

See Appendix XII and Rubâ'iy LXXIV.
16

62 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald Upfront Ear tJî 's Centre through the Seventh Gate
(XXXI.) I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate,

And many a Knot unraveVd by the Road;
But not the Master-knot of Human Fate.

(xxxi.) Up from Earth's Centre through the Seventh Gate
1859 1 rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate,18

And many Knots unravel'd by the Road ;
But not the Knot of Human Death and Fate.

Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 63

I solved all problems, down from Saturn's wreath Whinfield
Unto this lowly sphere of earth beneath,

And leapt out free from bonds of fraud and lies,
Yea, every knot was loosed, save that of death !

Compare Bodensteilt III, 11.
Jetzt, wo noch mein Aug1 und Odern auf den Schein der

Dinge stbsst.
Scheint mir, -wenig Leben sriit sei geV es, die ich nicht gelöst ;
Doch mich gründlich prüfend find' ich an der Summe des

Erkennen s :
Was mir klar im dunklen Leben wurde, ist nicht wert des

Nenncns.

FitzGerald's second edition (XXXIV, 1S6S) is the same as
XXXI in subsequent edition, except in the third line, which
reads : —

And many Knots unravcPd by the Road.

His brief note numbered 13 in the first edition, 12 in those
of 1S68, 1S72, and 1S79, reads, "Saturn, Lord of the Seventh
Heaven."

Whinfield's 1SS2 version (161) has the first two lines
thus : —
I solved all problems down from Saturn's wreath
Into the deepest heart of Earth beneath.

64 Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGerald There was the Door to which I found no Key j
(XXXII.) There was the Veil through which I might not see :
Some little talk awhile of Me and Thee
There was — and then no more of Thee and
Me.

(XXXII.) There was a Door to which I found no Key :
There was a Veil past which I could not see :
Some little Talk awhile of Me and Thee
There seemed — and then no more of Thee and
Me.15

McCarthy The secret of eternity is far from thee and me ;

the word of the enigma is unknown to thee and
me; behind the veil is speech of thee and me; but
if the veil be rent, what haps to thee and me ?

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 65

Nor you nor I can read the etern decree, Whinfield

To that enigma we can find no key ; (389)

They talk of you and me behind the veil,
But, if that veil be lifted, where are we?

Line 2 in the second, third, and fourth editions of Fitz-
Gerald reads : —

There was the Veil through which I could not see:

The fact that in the first edition (1S59) stanza XLI has
note number 14 seems to indicate a rearrangement after copy
was sent to printer. He explains the stanza in his note (13) :

" ME-AND-THEE : some dividual Existence or Personality
distinct from the Whole."

Mahmud Shabistari in his Gulshan-i-Ràz says: —

He from whose eyes God still the path conceals
By Key of logic may no door unclose.

Whinfield, 203 (18S2), reads: —

Nor you nor I can read our destiny ;
To that dark riddle we can find no key,

They talk of you and me behind the red,
But when the veil is lifted, where are we ?

"Meaning," says Whinfield, "We are part of the 'veil'
of phenomena, which hides the Divine Noumenon. If that
be swept away what becomes of us ? "

See Appendix XI; also Appendix XXXII ad finem.

Ru Mirât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald Earth could not answer j nor the Seas that mourn
(xxx Hi) /;/ ßowing Purple, of their Lord forlorn ;

1SS9 j\ior rolling Heaven, with all his Signs reveaVd

And hidden by the sleeve of Night and Morn.

Nicolas Tu me demandais ce que c'est que cette fantas-

(232) magorie des choses d'ici-bas. Te dire à cet égard

toute la vérité serait trop long: c'est une image

fantastique qui sort d'une vaste mer et qui rentre

ensuite dans cette même vaste mer.

McCarthy Thou askest me the meaning of this phantas-

(63) magoria of things here below. To expound the

whole of it to thee would be a work without end.
It is a fantastic vision, which springs from a
boundless ocean and sinks again into the same
ocean from which it arose.

Whinfleld You ask what is this life so frail, so vain,
(27i) 'Tis long to tell, yet I will make it plain ;

'Tis but a breath blown from those vasty deeps
And then blown back to those same deeps again !

Garner What may this Moving Panorama be?

(IX. 3) Ah would that I could tell it all to Thee ;

'T is Something tossed up by the boundless
Vast,
That will return to that Same Unknown Sea.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 67

Du fragst, was diese Welt sei? Wohl! ich will Von Schack
dich nicht betrügen, (190)

Und sage kurz dir, was davon mich dünkt.
Sie ist ein Schaumgebilde, das dem grossen Meer
entstiegen
Und in dies Meer von Neuem untersinkt.

Blue or purple is the mourning color in the East. Attar,
says FitzGerald, lias a story of "the Sea. being askt 'why he
- 'lis Waves in Blue?'— And he answers he does so
for the Loss of One who will never return."

Tn a letter to Professor Cowell dated March 12, 1857,
FitzGerald wrote: "While I think of it, why is the Sea "(in
that Apologue of Attar once quoted by Falconer) supposed to
have lost Cod? Did the Persians agree with something I
remember in Plato about the Sea, and all in it, being of an
Inferior Nature, in spite of Homer's divine Ocean ?"

Professor Cowell in a note to William Aldis Wright says :
'• I well remember shewing it to FitzGerald and reading it
with him in his early Persian days at Oxford in i.S^;. I
laughed at first at the quaintness; but the idea seized his
imagination from the first, and, like Virgil with Ennius' rough
jewels, his genius detected gold where 1 had seen only tinsel.
He has made two grand lines out of it."

In searching in Plato for the passage mentioned by
FitzGerald, I accidentally turned first to the place in the
" Theaitetos," where Sokrates asks if Homer, in singing oi
Okeanos and the birth of the gods and Tethys the mother
does not mean that all things are the offspring of flux and
motion. 1 thought it remotely possible that this was the
passage dimly remembered. But Professor W. W. Goodwin
of Harvard University, whom 1 ventured to approach with the
question, seemed to think not. He was kind enough to write
nv: "I could find nothing whatever in Plato to justify
! raid's remark : and I searched also in other places. .-. * ■.,
in Plutarch, to see if the passage could be quoted. I also
in Teller's lude\ to see if any earlier philosopher said
anything of the kind. But it was in vain: and I suspect that
dear old F. G. dreamed the passage

In the second edition, 1S6S, numbered XXXVI, the third
line reads : —

Nor ffeav'n, with those eternal Si^ns reveal' d.
See Appendix XIII.

Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyâm.

Pitz Gerald Then of the Thee in Me who works behind
(XXXIV.) The Veil, I lifted np my hands to find

l889 A Lamp amid the Darkness ; and I heard,

As from Without — "The Me within Thee
blind ! "

(XXXlii.) Then to the rolling Heav'n itself I cried,
1859 Asking, " What Lamp had Destiny to guide

" Her little Children stumbling in the Dark?"
And — " A blind Understanding! " Heav'n replied.

(xxxvii.) Then of the Thee in Me who works behind
1S68 The Veil of Universe I cried to find

A Lamp to guide me through the Darkness ; and
Something then said — " An Understanding blind."

Nicolas O toi, à la recherche de qui un monde entier est

(204) dans le vertige et dans la détresse! le derviche et

le riche sont également vides de moyens pour
parvenir à toi: ton nom est mêlé aux entretiens de
tous, mais tous sont sourds ; tu es présent aux
yeux de tous, mais tous sont aveugles.

McCarthy Oh thou, whom all creation seeketh in madness

(226) and despair, the dervish and the rich man alike

find no way to reach unto thee. Thy name is in

the mouth of all men, but all are deaf. Thou art

present to all eves, but all are blind.

Rubâiyât oj Omar Khayxdm. 69

The world is baffled in its search for Thee, Whinfield

Wealth cannot find Thee, no, nor poverty; (247)

Thou 'rt very near us, but our ears are deaf,
Our eyes are blinded that we may not see !

In vainly seeking Thee no Rest we find, Garner

But in and out the Labyrinth we wind. (X. 1)

Though every Tree and Rock proclaims Thy
Name
And Work, our Ears are Deaf, our Eyes are blind.

Die Ganze Welt ist in trostlosem Suchen nach Dir Bodenstedt

befangen, (I. 12)

Der Derwisch wie der Nabob ist ohne Mittel zu

Dir zu gelangen,
Deinen Namen nennt Jeder, aber Alle sind

taub,
Du erscheinst jedem Auge, doch sie sind alle

verhangen.

Du, nach dem die Welt, die ganze, unaufhaltsam Von Schack

strebt und ringt, (235)

Den zu finden so dem Reichsten, wie dem Ärmsten

nicht gelingt ;
Vor den Augen Aller schwebst du, aber Aller sind

sie blind,
Alle nennen deinen Namen, während taub sie

Alle sind.

In Whinfield, 136 (1SS2), line 3 ends : are stopped.

7°

Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam.

PitzGerald Then to the Lip of this poor earthen Urn
(XXXV.) j lean 'd, the Secret of my Life to learn .
1889 And Lip to Lip it murmured — " While you

live,
" Drink ! — for, once dead, you never shall return.''''

(xxxiv.) Then to this earthen Bowl did I adjourn
Its59 My Lip the secret Well of Life to learn :

And Lip to Lip it murmur'd — " While you live
" Drink! — for once dead you never shall return."

Whinfield I put my lips to the cup, for I did yearn
(274) The hidden cause of length of days to learn ;

He leaned his lip to mine, and whispered low,
" Drink ! for, once gone, you never will return."

Nicolas O toi qui es le résultat des quatre et des sept,

(389) je te vois bien embarrassé entre ces quatre et ces

sept. Bois du vin, car, je te l'ai dit plus de quatre

fois, tu ne reviendras plus; une fois parti, tu es

bien parti.

McCarthy Q offspring of the four and five, art puzzled by

*345> the four and five? Drink deep, for I have told
thee time on time, that once departed, thou
returnest no more.

Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyàm. 7 1

Sprung from the Four, and the Seven ! I see that M. K.

never
The Four and the Seven respond to thy brain's

endeavour — ■
Drink wine ! for I tell thee, four times o'er and

more,
Return there is none ! — Once gone, thou art gone

for ever !

Child of four elements and sevenfold heaven, Whinfield

Who fume and sweat because of these eleven, (43,)

Drink ! I have told you seventy times and seven,
Once gone, nor hell will send you back, nor heaven.

Mit Euren vier Elementen und sieben Himmeln Bodenstedt
geht mir! (VII 44)

Als verlegener Auszug dieser Doppelwelt steht Ihr !

Trink Wein, Freund, ich hab's Dir schon oft
gesagt :

Wer geht, kommt nicht wieder; sei's Gott auch
geklagt !

Line 2 of FitzGerald, XXXVIII (186S), reads : —
Ilean'd, the secret Well of Life to learn.
Whinfield, 223 (18S2), reads, "slave of four elements," and
the second line is : —

Who aye bemoan the thrall of these eleven.

Whinfield, 149 (1SS2), reads: —

I put my lips to the cup, for I did yearn
The secret of the future life to learn ;

And from his lip I heard a whisper drop,
u Drink ! for once gone you never will return."
One man, two worlds, four elements, five senses, seven
planets, eight heavens, nine spheres, ten powers.

Rubdiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald / think the Vessel, that with fugitive
(XXXVI.) Articulation answer 'd, once did live,

l889 A mi drink ; and Ah ! the passive Lip 1 kiss 'd,

How many Kisses might it take — and give !

(xxxv.) I think the Vessel, that with fugitive
!859 Articulation answer'd, once did live,

And merry-make ; and the cold Lip I kiss'd
How many Kisses might it take — and give !

Nicolas Cette cruche a été comme moi une créature

(28) aimante et malheureuse, elle a soupiré après une

mèche de cheveux de quelque jeune beauté ; cette

anse que tu vois attaché à son col était un bras

amoureusement passé au cou d'une belle.

McCarthy This jar has been, like me, a creature, loving

(73) and unhappy; it has sighed for the long tresses of

some fair young girl ; that handle by which you

hold it now, was once a loving arm to linger fondly

round some fair one's neck.

Whinfield This jug did once, like me, love's sorrows taste,
(32) And bonds of beauty's tresses once embraced,

This handle, which you see upon its side,
Has many a time twined round a slender waist!

Rubâ/iyât of Omar Khayyam. 73

A sighing bit of Breathing Clay, this Vase, Garner

Once humbly bowed before a Woman's Face, ^v"- 5)

This earthen Handle fixed about its Neck,
Did oft in Love a Cypress Form embrace.

Dieser Krug ist, wie ich, unglücklich lebendig Bodenstedt

gewesen, (HI- 3)

In schöne Augen und Locken verliebt unverständig
gewesen.
Dieser Henkel am Halse des Kruges war einst
ein Arm,
Der in Umhalsung der Schönen unbändig gewesen.

Ein armer Verliebter ist, wie ich, einst dieser Krug

von Lehm gewesen,
Um Locken einer schönen Maid hat er geseufzt Von Schack

in Liebesharm; (5)

Um einen weichen Nacken ist als Arm
Geschlungen dieser Henkel ehedem gewesen.

Line 3 in FitzGerald, XXXIX (1S6S), reads : —

And drink ; and that impassive Lip I fciss'd.

In Whinfield, 17 (1SS2), the second and third lines read : —

In bonds of beauty's tresses chained fast ,

This very handle pendent on its neck.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald for I remember stopping by the way
(xxxvii.) -fo watch a Potter thumping his wet Clay :
1889 And with its all-obliterated Tongue

It murmur 'd — ■ " Gently, Brother, gently, pray ! "

(xxxvi.) For in the Market-place, one Dusk of Day,
1859 I watch'd the Potter thumping his wet Clay :

And with its all obliterated Tongue
It murmur'd — " Gently, Brother, gently, pray ! "

Nicolas Hier, j'ai remarqué au bazar un potier donnant

<2II> à outrance des coups de pieds à une terre qu'il

pétrissait. Cette terre semblait lui dire: Moi

aussi j'ai été ton semblable ; traite-moi donc avec

moins de rigueur.

McCarthy Yesterday I beheld at the bazaar a potter smit-

(24s) ing with all his force the clay he was kneading.
The earth seemed to cry out to him, " I also was
such as thou — treat me therefore less harshly."

Whinfield I saw a busy potter by the way

(252) Kneading with might and main a lump of clay ;

(137. 1882) And, lo, the clay cried, " Use me gently, pray,
I was a man myself but yesterday ! "

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 75

I saw a Potter at his Work to-day, Garner

With rudest Hand he shaped his yielding Clay, (VII. 9)

" Oh gently Brother, do not treat me thus,
I too, was once a Man," I heard it say.

Einen Töpfer sah ich gestern im Basar, Bodenstedt

Der ganz wütig im Stampfen von Thonerde war ; (x- 9)

Diese schien ihm zu sagen : Freund, mich zu

erweichen,
Behandle mich menschlich, ich war auch Deines-
gleichen !

Ich schaute gestern einem Töpfer zu, Von

Der schlug auf frischen Lehm gewaltig zu.

Da sprach der Lehm mit seinem eignen Wort:
Schlag' mich nicht so ; bin ich denn nicht was Du !

For Fitzgerald's note and further illustrations of the thought
of this Rubâ'iy, see Appendix XIV.

Purgstall

Rubdiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald And lias not such a Story from of Old
(Xxxvili.) Down Man's successive generations rolFd
1889 Of such a clod of saturated Earth

Cast by the Maker into Human mould ?

(xxxvili.) Listen — a moment listen ! — Of the same
(1S72, 3d ed.) Poor Earth from which that Human Whisper
came
The luckless Mould in which Mankind was cast
They did compose, and call'd him by the name.

Nicolas

(119)

Ces potiers qui plongent constamment leurs
doigts dans l'argile, cpui emploient tout leur esprit,
toute leur intelligence, toutes leurs facultés à la
pétrir, jusqu'à quand persisteront-ils à la fouler de
leurs pieds, à la souffleter de leurs mains? À quoi
pensent-ils donc ? C'est cependant de la terre de
corps humains qu'ils traitent ainsi.

McCarthy The potters who without cease plunge their

(270) hands in the clay, who give all their mind, all their

skill, to form it, how long will they continue to
trample it under foot, to smite it with their hands ?
What then are their thoughts ? Do they not con-
sider that it is the mould of mankind they treat
thus ?

Wninfield A potter at his work I chanced to see,

(493) founding some earth and shreds of pottery ;

I looked with eyes of insight, and methought
' T was Adam's dust with which he made so free

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 77

The Potter deftly shapes his turning Clay, Garner

And knead and mould it with what Skill he may ; (VII. 7)

He little thinks it once of Human kind, —
The Earth he mangles in his Humor gay.

Diese Töpfer, die mit Füssen und Händen Bodenstedt

Die Thonmasse treten, kneten und wenden, (VIII. 7)

Ihren ganzen Witz und Verstand erschöpfen

Zur Vorbereitung von Krügen und Töpfen :
Sie selber scheinen nicht klar zu sehen,

Was sie da schlagen, stampfen und drehen,
Sonst waren sie selbst darüber betreten,

Dass sie Staub von Menschengebeinen kneten.

Ihr Töpfer, die emsig den Thon ihr knetet, Von Schack

Mit Händen ihn klopft, mit Füssen ihn tretet, (4)

Bedenkt doch : was ihr also misshandelt,
Sind Menschenleiber, zu Erde verwandelt !

In the first draught of Edition III, FitzGerald wrote the
first line : —

For, in your ear a moment — of the same.

In XLI, Edition II, line 1 reads : —

For has not such a Story from of OU.

Rubaiyât of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGerald And not a drop that from our Cups we throw
(XXXIX.) f0l- Earth to drink of but may steal below
1889 t0 quench the fire of Anguish in some Eye

There hidden — far beneath, and long ago.

(XLll.) And not a drop that from our Cups we throw
1868 On the parent herbage but may steal below

To quench the fire of Anguish in some Eye
There hidden — far beneath, and long ago.

Nicolas Chaque gorgée de vin que réchanson verse dans

(188) la coupe vient éteindre dans tes yeux brûlants le

feu de tes chagrins. Ne dirait-on pas, ô grand

Dieu! que le vin est un élixir qui chasse de ton

cœur cent douleurs qui l'oppressaient?

McCarthy Each drop of wine which the cup-bearer pours

(■7°) into the cup will quench the fire of grief in thy

burning eyes. Is it not said, O great God, that

wine is an elixir which drives away all the sorrows

that weigh down the heart?

Whinfield The showers of grape-juice, which cupbearers
(203) pour,

(no, 1882) Quench fires of grief in many a sad heart's core;
Praise be to Allah, who hath sent this balm
To heal sore hearts, and spirits' health restore.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 79

Jedes Glas Wein, das Du trinkst, wird löschend Bodenstedt
saugen <-lx- 83>

Am Feuer des Schmerzes in deinen Augen.

Ist der Wein nicht ein Mittel, das Wunder thut

Und, selbst glühend, löscht Anderer Schmer-
zensglut ?

See Appendix XV.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald As then the Tulip for her morning sup
(XL.) Of Heavenly Vintage from the soil looks up,
1889 Do you devoutly do the like, till Heav'n

To Earth invert you — like an empty Cup.

(XLiii.) As then the Tulip for her wonted sup
1868 of Heavenly Vintage lifts her chalice up,

Do you, twin offspring of the soil, till Heav'n
To Earth invert you like an empty Cup.

Nicolas

(40)

Imite la tulipe qui fleurit au noorouz ; prends
comme elle une coupe dans ta main, et, si l'occa-
sion se présente, bois, bois du vin avec bonheur,
en compagnie d'une jeune beauté aux joues colorées
du teint de cette fleur, car cette roue bleue, comme
un coup de vent, peut tout à coup venir te
renverser.

McCarthy Copy the tulip, that flames with the new year;

(102) take, like her, the cup in your hand, and drink at

all advantage your wine with a light heart, in com-
pany with a youthful beauty with tulip cheeks.
For yon blue wheel may like a whirlwind at any
moment dash you down.

Rubdiyât of Omar Khayyam. Si

Like tulips in the Spring your cups lift up, Whinfield

And, with a tulip-cheeked companion, sup (44)

With joy your wine, or e'er this azure wheel
With some unlooked for blast upset your cup.

Nimm Dir ein Beispiel an der Tulpe, welche Bodenstedt

Des Himmels Gaben zeigt im blühenden Kelche. (1X- 48)

Halt hoch den Kelch und küsse Tulpenwangen,

Noorouz, the Persian New Year, beginning at the equinox,
March 21. It is spelled by FitzGerald Naw Rooz, but in
the edition contained in FitzGerald's Life and Letters, Now
Rooz.

In the first draught of Edition III, line 2 reads : —

Of Wine from Hcav'n her little Tass lifts up.
In the third edition (1S72) there is no dash in the last line.

82 Rubâiyât of Omar Khâyyam.

FitzGerald Perplext no more with Hitman or Divine,
(XLI.) To-morrow's tangle to the winds resign,
1889 And lose your fingers in the tresses of

The Cypress-slender Minister of Wine.

(LV.) oh, plagued no more with Human or Divine
1868 To-morrow's tangle to itself resign,

And lose your fingers in the tresses of
The Cypress-slender Minister of Wine.

Nicolas
(294)

Voici l'aurore, viens, et, la coupe pleine de vin
rose en main, respirons un instant. Quant à
l'honneur, à la réputation, ce crystal fragile,
brisons-le contre la pierre. Renonçons à nos désirs
insatiables, bornons-nous à jouir de l'attouchement
des longues chevelures des belles et du son
harmonieux de la harpe.

McCarthy Behold the dawn arises. Let us rejoice in the

(283) present moment with a cup of crimson wine in our

hand. As for honour and fame, let that fragile
crystal be dashed to pieces against the Earth.

Whinfield 'Tis dawn ! my heart with wine I will recruit,
(332) And dash to bits the glass of good repute ;
My long-extending hopes I will renounce,
And grasp long tresses, and the charming lute.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 83

Schon atmet der Morgen, begriissen wir froh ihn, Bodenstedt

beim Weine (IX- 8S)

Und werfen des Leumunds zerbrechliches Glas

auf die Steine.
Entsagen wir leicht allen schwer zu erreichenden

Zielen,
Um in üppigen Locken beim Klange der Harfe

zu spielen.

Lasst trinken uns beim Morgenrot ! Sagt an, was Von Schack
kann es uns kümmern, ^

Wenn Ehre und Ruf, dies vergängliche Glas, zu
Scherben sich wandeln und Trümmern ?

Nichts wünschen lasst auf Erden uns mehr, nein
mit den lieblichen Tönen

Der Harfe wollen zufrieden wir sein und den wall-
enden Locken der Schönen.

See Appendix XVI.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald Ajidifthe Wine you drink, the Lip yon press,
(XLil.) End in what All begins and ends in — Yesj
1889 Think then you are To-day what Yesterday

You were — To-morrowj/ö» shall not be less.

(XLVll.) And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press,
1859 End in the Nothing all Things end in — Yes —

Then fancy while Thou art, Thou art but what
Thou shalt be — Nothing: — Thou shalt not be less.

(XLV.)

1868

Nicolas
(49)

And if the Cup you drink, the Lip you press,
End in what All begins and ends in — Yes ;

Imagine then you are what heretofore
You were — hereafter you shall not be less.

Si le cœur humain avait une connaissance des
secrets de la vie, il connaîtrait également, à
l'article de la mort, les secrets de Dieu. Si au-
jourd'hui que tu es avec toi-même tu ne sais rien,
que sauras-tu demain quand tu seras sorti de ce
toi-même ?

If the human heart could know the secrets of
life, it would know too, knowing death, the secrets
of God. If to-day, when you are with yourself,
you know nothing, what shall you know to-morrow,
when you have passed from yourself?

Whinfield If the heart knew life's secrets here below,

(52) At death 't would know God's secret too, 1 trow ;

But, if you know naught here, while still your-
self,
To-morrow, stripped of self, what can you know ?

McCarthy
(69)

Rubâiyâl of Omar Khayyam. 85

Durchschaute das Herz das Geheimniss des Bodenstedt

Lebens, (iv. 2)

So erforscht' es den Tod und auch Gott nicht

vergebens.
Kannst Du heute, noch ganz bei Dir selbst,

nichts gewahren,
Was wirst Du morgen, wenn ganz Dir entfremdet,

erfahren ?

Begriffe dieses Leben nur von Grund aus unser Von Schack
Geist, (a3)

Wohl würd' er die Geheimnisse des Todes auch
erkunden ;
Doch wenn du heute, da du noch bei Sinnen bist,
nichts weisst,
Was wirst du morgen wissen, wenn die Sinne dir
geschwunden ?

In the first draught of Edition III the first line reads : —

And if the Cup, andifthe Lip yon press.
Whinfield, 28 (1882), reads, line 1, earth'' s secrets; line 2,
heaven'' s secrets.
Compare Von Schack, 105 : —

Wenn dir das Haupt von Wein benebelt ist, sei froh!
Wenn eine Schöne dir die Lippen kits st, sei froh .'

Der Erdendinge Ziel und Endpunkt ist das Nichts,
Drum denk'1 an dieses Nichts, und, weil du bist, sei froh !
See Rubä'iy LUI and Appendixes XI and XVIII.

86 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald So when that Angel of the darker Drink
At last shall find you by the river-brink,

l889

And, offering his Cup, invite your Soul
Forth to your Lips to quaff — you shall not
shrink.

(XLVlil.) While the Rose blows along the River Brink,
1859 With old Khayyam the Ruby Vintage drink:

And when the Angel with his darker Draught
Draws up to Thee — take that, and do not shrink.

(XLVI.) So when at last the Angel of the drink 16
Of Darkness finds you by the river-brink,

And, proffering his Cup, invites your Soul
Forth to your Lips to quaff it — do not shrink.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 87

Deep in the rondure of the heavenly blue, Whinfield

There is a cup, concealed from mortals' view,

Which all must drink in turn ; O sigh not then,
But drink it boldly, when it comes to you !

In the first draught of Edition III the reading of 186S was
followed, except that " proffering " was changed to " offering : "
but in Edition III the stanza assumed its final form. In Edi-
tion IV, instead of " that Angel," read " the Angel."

FitzGerald says in his note (16) : —

" According to one beautiful Oriental Legend, Azrael accom-
plishes his mission by holding to the nostril an Apple from
the Tree of Life.

" This, and the two following Stanzas, would have been with-
drawn, as somewhat de trop, from the Text, but for advice
which I least like to disregard."

The first three lines of Whinfield, 139 (1SS2), read : —
Deep in the rondure of the empyreal blue
There lies a cup hid from all mortal view,

Which comes to all in turn; oh! sigh not then.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald

(XLIV.)
1S89

Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside,
A/ni naked on the Air of Heaven ride,

Were1 1 not a Shame — ivere^t nota Shame for him
In this clay carcase crippled to abide ?

From Preface of Oh, if my soul can fling his Dust aside,
Edition i. And naked on the Air of Heaven ride,

Is 't not a Shame, is 't not a Shame for Him
So long in this Clay Suburb to abide!

Whinfield O soul ! could you but doff this flesh and bone,
(436) You 'd soar a sprite about the heavenly throne ;

Had you no shame to leave your starry home,
And dwell an alien on this earthy zone ?

Garner Oh that the soul might leave its Earthen Home

(V. n) And wing its Flight through Heaven's Mighty
Dome,
What Shame, what Shame to feel itself confined
Within a tenement of Basest Loam.

Nicolas

(17O

McCarthy
(268)

The same thought recurs : —

De temps à autre mon cœur se trouve à l'étroit dans
sa cage. Il est honteux d'être mêlé avec l'eau et la
boue. J'ai bien songé à détruire cette prison, mais
mon pied aurait alors rencontré une pierre en glissant
sur l'étrier du chèr'e (loi du Koran).

From time to time my heart seems cabined in its cage.
It is a disgrace to be thus blended of water and of earth.
I dreamed of breaking down this prison-house, but then
my foot would slip on the stone of the law of the Koran.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 89

Oft doth my soul her prisoned state bemoan, Whinfield

Her earth-born annate she would fain disown, (,87)

And quit, did not the stirrup of the law-
Upbear her foot from dashing on the stone.

Zuweilen kommt mein stolzer Geist mit dem Körper in Bodenstedt
Zerwürfnis, (VIII. 28)

Er schämt sich der Gemeinsamkeit mit niedrigem
Bedürfnis.

Ich habe öfter schon gedacht zu sprengen diesen Kerker,

Allein der Selbsterhaltung Pflicht erwies sich immer
stärker.

Oft fühlt mein Herz mit Kummer sich von diesem Von Schack

Käfig eingeengt (79)

Und sieht sich voll Beschämung hier dem niedern

Erdenstaub vermengt ;
Uen Käfig zu verbrechen dann wohl wandelt mich

Verlangen an,
Allein verpönt ist solche That, ich weiss, dem frommen

Muselmann.

In FitzGerald, Editions III and IV (1872, 1879), line
3 reads : —

Wer V not a Shame — wer' I not a Shame for him.

The last two lines of Editiun II differ from those in the
Preface of Edition I only in the matter of capitalization : —
/s't not a shame — is't not a shame for him
So long in this Clay suburb to remain.

The last line of Whinfield, 218 (18S2), reads : —
And drop to earth like some poor downcast stone.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

Fitz Gerald 'Tis but a Tent where takes his one day's rest
(XLV.) A Sultan to the realm of Death addrest ;
QQ The Sultan rises, and the dark Ferrâsh

i sog

Strikes, and prepares it for another Guest.

From Preface of Or is that but a Tent, where rests anon
Edition I. A Sultan to his Kingdom passing on,

And which the swarthy Chamberlain shall strike
Then when the Sultan rises to be gone?

Nicolas O Khèyam ! ton corps ressemble absolument à

(80) une tente : l'âme en est le sultan, et sa dernière

demeure est le néant. Quand le sultan est sorti de

sa tente, les fèrrachs du trépas viennent la détruire

pour la dresser à une autre étape.

McCarthy Khayyam, your body is like unto a tent, the soul

(169) thereof is the sultan, and his last home is nothing-

ness. When the sultan quits his pavilion, the
fatal Ferrash strikes it, to set it up at another
stage.

M. K. Thy body's a tent, where the Soul, like a King in

quest
Of the goal of Nought, is a momentary guest ; —

He arises; Death's famish uproots the tent,
And the King moves on to another stage to rest.

Whinfield Thy body is a tent, where harbourage
(82) The Sultan spirit takes for one brief age ;

When he departs, comes the tent-pitcher death,
Strikes it, and onward moves, another stage.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 91

Khayyam, your body is a Tent, your Soul, Garner

A Sultan, destined to an Unknown Goal ; (XI. 8)

The dread Ferrâsh of Doom destroys the Tent,
The Moment that the Sultan's Summons toll.

O Chajjam, Dein Körper gleicht einem Zelt, Bodenstedt

Dem Geist, als König, zur Wohnung bestellt. (VIII.94)

Zieht der König aus, so wird's abgetragen
Und am andern Orte neu aufgeschlagen.

Ganz vergleichbar ist dein Leib, o Chijam, einem Von Schack

Fürstenzelt ; (59)

In dem Leib wohnt deine Seele, die nachher dem

Tod verfällt ;
Wenn der Fürst das Zelt verlassen, abgebrochen

wird's alsbald ;
Neu errichtet dann für neue Wohner dient's als

Aufenthalt.

In LXX, Edition II, 1S6S, of FitzGerald, line 1 reads: —

But that is but a tent wherein may rest.
In Edition III, 1S72, the word Sultan has no accent.
Whinfield, 37 (1SS2), reads : —

This body is a tent, which for a space

Doth the pure soul with kingly presence grace,

When he departs, comes the tent-pitcher, death,
Strikes it, and moves to a new halting-place.

Mr. John Leslie Garner kindly gives the following prose
translation to show how far the idea of evolution was from the
mind of the twelfth century poet : —

Khayyam .' thy body resembles a tent truly ; the Soul a
sultan is ; his resting-place is in naught ; the fcrrash of
doom, because of another resting place (for the sultan)
destroys (removes or overturns) the tent when the sultan has
risen .

The ferrâsh is a body-servant.

Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald
(XLVI.)

(XLvir.)
1868

Nicolas
(137)

McCarthy

(235)

Ana fear not lest Existetice closing your
Account, and mine, should know the like no more j

The Eternal Sâki from that Bowl has pour 'd
Millions of Bubbles like us, and will pour.

And fear not lest Existence closing your
Account, should lose, or know the type no more

The Eternal Sâki from that Bowl has pour'd
Millions of Bubbles like us, and will pour.

O Khèyam ! bien que la roue des cieux ait, en
dressant sa tente, fermé la porte aux discussions,
(il est évident cependant) que l'échanson de
l'éternité (Dieu) a produit, sous forme de globules
de vin, dans la coupe de la création, mille autres
Khèyam semblables à toi.

O, Khayyam, although indeed the wheel of
heaven, in setting its tent, has closed the door to
discussions, nevertheless the eternal Cup-bearer
has formed in the cup of creation a thousand other
Khayyams like unto thee.

Whinfield What though the sky with its blue canopy
(i6i) Doth close us in so that we can not see,

In the etern Cupbearer's wine, methinks,
There float a myriad bubbles like to me.

Garner

(VI. 10)

Fair Heaven's Tent was long since raised, 't was

Then
That Nature's Ways were hid from Human Ken,

Life's Cup the Everlasting Sâki filled
With Millions of these Bubbles, called Men.

Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 93

O Chajjam, obgleich das Himmelszelt Bodenstedt

Geheimnissvoll umschliesst die Welt, (vin. ,3)

So glaub' ich doch, es hat in der Zeit

Der Schenke des Weins der Ewigkeit
Geschaffen tausend Deinesgleichen

Im Schöpfungskelch, dem wunderreichen,
Die munter im Weine steigen zum Lichte

Und als Bläschen sich zeigen unserm Gesichte.

Chijam ! wie durch einen Vorhang ist das Weltall Von Schack
dir verschlossen, ( j

Aber Eins erkennst du, deckt auch Dunkel sonst
dein Auge zu :
In der Schöpfung grossem Becher, den der Ew'ge
vollgegossen,
Eine der Millionen Blasen, die drin schwimmen,
nur bist du.

In the third edition of FitzGerald (1S72) the word Sdki
has no accent on the final vowel.

Whinfield, 90 (1882), has in line 1, u his blue canopy,'1'' and
the fourth hue reads : —

There float some thousand bubbles such as we.

See Appendix XVIII.

94 Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald When You and I behind the Veil are past,

(XLVll.) oil, but the long, long while the World shall last,
1889 Which of our Cotning and Departure heeds

As the Sea'' s self should heed a pebble-cast.

(XLVll.) When you and I behind the Veil are past,
1872 Oh but the long long while the World shall last

Which of our Coming and Departure heeds
As the Sev'n Seas should heed a pebble-cast.

Nicolas Oh ! que de temps où nous ne serons plus et où

(123) le monde sera encore ! Il ne restera de nous ni

renommée, ni trace. Le monde n'était pas incom-
plet avant que nous y vinssions ; il n'y sera rien
changé non plus quand nous en serons partis.

McCarthy Alas ! how long the time will be when we are no

(210) longer in this world, and the world will still exist.

There will remain of us neither fame, nor trace.
The world was not imperfect before we came into
it — it will be in no wise changed when we are
departed hence.

Whinfield The world will last long after Khayyam's fame

(15°) Has passed away, yea, and his very name ;

(83, 1882) Aforetime we were not, and none did heed.

When we are dead and gone, 'twill be the same.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 95

Die Welt wird noch lange sich drehn, wenn wir Bodenstedt
verschwunden daraus, (Vin. 9)

Und Keine Spur wird sein zu sehn, dass wir
verschwunden daraus :
Der Welt fehlte nichts, eh' wir kamen zur Welt,

Und es wird kein Mangel entstehn wenn wir
verschwunden daraus.

O welche lange, lange Zeit nach uns noch wird die Von Schack

Welt besteh'n ! U«6)

Im Wind wird jede Spur von uns, wird unser

Name selbst verweh'n,
Vor unserer Geburt behalf die Welt ganz gut

sich ohne uns,
Und keine Lücke wird entsteh'n, wenn wieder wir

von dannen geh'n.

In FitzGerald's second edition (1S6S) the last line reads:
As muck as Ocean of a pcbbie-cast.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGerald
(XLVIII.)
1889

A Momenfs Halt — a momentary taste
Of Being from the Well amid the Waste —

And Lo ! — the phantom Caravan has reached
The Nothing it set out from — Oh, make haste !

(XXXVill.) One Moment in Annihilation's Waste,

1859 One Moment, of the Well of Life to taste —

The Stars are setting and the Caravan
Starts for the Dawn of Nothing16 — Oh, make
haste !

(XLix.) One Moment in Annihilation's Waste,
1S6S One Moment, of the Well of Life to taste —

The Stars are setting and the Caravan17
Draws to the Dawn of Nothing — Oh make
haste!

Nicolas Cette caravane de vie passe d'une manière bien

(106) étrange ! Sois sur tes gardes, ami, car c'est le
temps de la joie qui s'échappe ainsi ! Ne t'inquiète
donc pas du chagrin qui demain attend nos amis,
et apporte-moi vite la coupe, car vois comme la
nuit s'écoule !

McCarthy This caravan of life passeth in a strange manner

(^5) — Beware, oh, friend, for it is the time of thy plea-

sure which tleeth from thee thus. Trouble not
thyself, therefore, for the grief which awaiteth our
friends on the morrow, for behold how the night
passeth away.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

Life's caravan is hastening on its way ; Whinfield

Brood not on troubles of the coming day, (136)

But fill the wine-cup, ere sweet night be gone,
And snatch a pleasant moment, while you may.

Life's Caravan unheeded steals away, Garner

And with it passes all our Pleasure, nay, (V. 3)

Fear not the Pain the Future has in Store, —
But drink, upon us steals the Twilight gray.

Fill high the cup though ache the weary brow ■ #(22)

Fill with the wine that doth with life endow,
For life is but a tale by watch-fire told.
Haste thee ! the fire burns low — the night grows
old.

Diese Lebenskarawane ist ein seltsamer Zug, Bodenstedt

Darum hasche die flüchtige Freude im Flug ! (ix. 66)

Mach' Dir um künftigen Gram keine Sorgen,
Fülle das Glas, bald naht wieder der Morgen!

O wie schnellen Zugs von dannen zieht die Von Schack

Lebenskarawane ! (276)

Schneller flieht die Zeit der Freude, als ich's

glaube, als ich 's ahne ;
Drum des Grams nicht will ich denken, welcher

morgen auf uns harrt ;
Her den Wein! die Nacht entflieht schon; freu'n

wir uns der Gegenwart.

In FitzGerald's first draught of Edition III. the third line
reads : —

Before the starting Caravan has reach' d.

!n the fourth edition the last word is spelt reacht.

Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald Would you that spangle of Existence spend
(XLix.) About the secret — quick about it, Friend !
lS8g A Hair perhaps divides the False and True,

And upon what, prithee, may life depetid?

(L ) A Hair perhaps divides the False and True ;

lS8 Yes j and a single Alif were the clue —

Could you but find it — to the Treasure-house,
And peradventure to The Master too ;

Nicolas La distance qui sépare l'incrédulité de la foi

(20) n'est que d'un souffle, celle qui sépare le cloute de

la certitude n'est également que d'un souffle;
passons donc gaiement cet espace précieux d'un
souffle, car notre vie aussi n'est séparé (de la mort)
que par l'espace d'un souffle.

McCarthy

(46)

Only a breath divides faith and unfaith, only a
breath divides belief from doubt. Let us then
make merry while we still draw breath, for only a
breath divides life from death.

Whinfield From doubt to clear assurance is a breath,
/24\ A breath from infidelity to faith ;

do 1882) ^n' Prec'ous breath ! enjoy it while you may,

'Tis all that life can give, and then comes death.

Garner From Faith to Disbelief is but a Breath,

(Vlll. 10) From Doubt to Faith, but one, the Dervish saith,
Come gaily let us pass our fleeting Days, —
A Little While then cometh the Angel Death.

Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyàm, 99

Vom Unglauben zum Glauben hin ist nur ein Bodenstedt
Hauch, (i. 38)

Wie vom Zweifel bis zur Gevvissheit auch :

So mach' uns der winzige Sprung keine Not,

Trennt doch nur ein Hauch selbst das Leben vom
Tod!

In the second edition of FitzGerald, the third line of XLIX
and first of L (numbered respectively L and LI ) read : —
A Hair, they say, divides the False and True.
In line 3 of stanza L, a dash replaces the comma of Edi-
tion II.

In Edition IV the last line of XLIX reads : —

And upon what, prithee does life depend?

Whinfield, 109, reads : —

Once and again my soul did me implore,
To teach her, if I might, the heavenly lore ;

I bade her learn the Alif -cell by heart.
Who knows that letter well ?ieed learn no more.

(Alif kafat, — " the One. that is God, is enough." See Hafiz,
Ode 416 : " He who knows the One knows all.")

So in the Gulshan-i-Râz : —

Even as the point can change 'Ain ' into 'Chain,'
The essence to the cloud, so fancy conjures up
Nature from the ethereal essence.

A dot or diacritical mark over the initial of a Persian word
changes its pronunciation. Ain becomes ghain, and 'ab'ir, am-
bergris, perfume, assumes a resemblance to ghubAr, dust or
vapor.

See also Appendix XIII to Rubâ'iy XXXIII.

ioo Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGerald Whose secret Presence, through Creation's veins
(LI) Running Quicksilver-like eludes your pains ;

1889 Taking all shapes from Mäh to Mâhi ; and

They change and perish all — but He remains ;

(Lii ) A moment guess 'd — then back behind the Fold
1889 I/nmerst of Darkness round the Drama rolVd

Which, for the Pastime of Eternity,
He doth Himself contrive, enact, behold.

Nicolas Tantôt tu es caché, ne te manifestant à

(443) personne; tantôt tu te découvres dans toutes les
choses créées. C'est pour toi-même sans doute et
pour ton plaisir que tu produis ces merveilleux
effets, car tu es à la fois et l'essence du spectacle
qu'on voit et ton propre spectateur.

McCarthy Now thou art hidden, known of none, now thou

(346) art displayed in all created things. It is for thy

own delight that thou performest these wonders,
being at once the sport and the spectator.

Whinfield Now in thick clouds Thy face Thou dost immerse,
(475) And now display it in this universe;

(244, 18S2) Thou the spectator, Thou the spectacle,

Sole to Thyself Thy glories dost rehearse.

Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. ioi

At times Thou art concealed, and then anon Garner

Thy subtle Essence castest Thou upon (|X- 2)

All Things Existent ' twixt the Earth and Moon;
Thou art the Player and the Looker-on.

Bald verhüllst Du den Augen der Menschen Dich Bodenstedt
ganz, (*• 8)

Zeigst bald Dich in Bildern der Schöpfung voll
Glanz.

Für Dich selbst schaffst Du Alles an Wundern
so reich,

Bist Inhalt des Schauspiels, Zuschauer zugleich.

Bald verhüllt und jedem Blicke unerreichbar Von Schack

waltest du, (172)

Bald auch in der Schöpfung tausend Bildern dich

entfaltest du,
Und es scheint, dass nur zur Kurzweil all das für

dich selber ist,
Da du selbst das Schauspiel und auch selber der

Beschauer bist.

In second and third editions (1868 and 1872) does instead
ol doth. In Edition II a comma separates running and
Quicksilver-like.

See Appendix XVII.

io2 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGerald But if in vain, down on the stubborn fioor

(LIII.) Of Earth, and tip to Heaven's unopening Door,
18S9 You gaze To-day, while You are You — how

then
To-morrow, You when shall be You no more ?

(Liv.) But if in vain, down on the stubborn floor
,863 Of Earth, and up to Heav'n's unopening Door,

You gaze To-day, while You are You — how
then
To-morrow, when You shall be You no more ?

Nicolas Si le cœur humain avait une connaissance exacte

(49) des secrets de la vie, il connaîtrait également, à

l'article de la mort, les secrets de Dieu. Si aujour-
d'hui que tu es avec toi-même tu ne sais rien, que
sauras-tu demain quand tu seras sorti de ce toi-
même ?

McCarthy if the human heart could know the secrets of

(69) life, it would know too, knowing death, the secrets

of God. If to-day, when you are with yourself,

you know nothing, what shall you know to-morrow,

when you have passed from yourself ?

Whinfleld if the heart knew life's secrets here below,

(52) At death 't would know God's secrets too, I trow ;

But, if you know naught here, while still your-
self,
To-morrow, stripped of self, what can you know ?

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyàm. 103

Durchschaute das Herz das Geheimnis des Bodenstedt

Lebens, (IV. 2)

So erforscht' es den Tod und auch Gott nicht

vergebens.
Kannst Du heute, noch ganz bei Dir selbst nichts

gewahren,
Was wirst Du morgen, wenn ganz Dir entfremdet,

erfahren ?

Begriffe dieses Leben nur von Grund aus unser Von Schack
Geist, (23)

Wohl würd' er die Geheimnisse des Todes auch
erkunden ;
Doch wenn du heute, da du noch bei Sinnen
bist, nichts weisst,
Was wirst du morgen wissen, wenn die Sinne
dir geschwunden?

FitzGerald apparently derived Rubâiyât XLII and LUI from
the same original.

In Whinfield, 2S (18S2), read, earth's secrets, heaven's
secrets.

See Rubâ'iy XLII and Appendix XVIII.

iü4 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald Waste not your /lour, nor in the vain pursuit
(LIV.) Qf This and That endeavour and dispute ;
1889 Better be jocund with the fruitful Grape,

Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit.

(XXXIX) How long, how long, in infinite Pursuit
l859 Of This and That endeavour and dispute ?

Better be merry with the fruitful Grape,
Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit.

Nicolas Jusques h quand ces arguments sur les cinq et

(4*4 les quatre, ô échanson ? En comprendre un, ô

échanson ! est aussi difficile que d'en saisir cent
mille. Nous sommes tous de terre, ô échanson •
accorde la harpe; nous sommes tous de vent,
apporte du vin, ô échanson !

McCarthy How long will these wrangle on the five and

(328) four, O cup-bearer! It is as hard to understand

one as one hundred thousand, O cup-bearer ; vvc

are but earth, so tune the lute, O cup-bearer ; we

are but as soft air, bring wine, O cup-bearer !

Whinfield Reason not of the five, nor of the four,

(453) Be their dark problems one or many score ;

We are but earth, go, minstrel, bring the lute,
We are but air, bring wine, I ask no more.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 105

How long, oh, Sàki, shall we ponder o'er Garner

These Fruitless Arguments of Five and Four? CVI. 5)

Come, Sâki, tune Thy Harp, we all are Dust,
A Breath of Wind, — come, till one Goblet more.

Wie lange noch braucht man als Argumente Bodenstedt

Unsre fünf Sinne und vier Elemente ! (1X 97)

Eins zu begreifen, ist ganz so schwer,

Als ob es ein Hunderttausend war'.
Wir sind Alle nur Staub, das bedenke

Und stimme die Harfe, o Schenke !
Ein Hauch ist unser ganzes Sein,

Das bedenke, o Schenke, und bring mir Wein!

The second edition (LVI, 1868) of FitzGerald is the same
as the third, fourth, and fifth, except in the third line, which
reads : —

Better be merry with the fruitful Grape.

See Appendix XIX.

io6 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald You know, my Friends, with what a brave
(LV.) Carouse

1889 I made a Second Marriage in my house;

Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed,
And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse.

(XL.) You know, my Friends, how long since in my
1859 House

For a new Marriage I did make Carouse :
Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed,

And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse.

Nicolas Moi, je verserai du vin dans une coupe qui

(1S1) puisse en contenir un mèn. Je me contenterai

d'en boire deux coupes ; mais d'abord je divorcerai

trois fois avec la religion et la raison, et ensuite

j'épouserai la fille de la vigne.

McCarthy
(20)

I myself will pour wine into a cup which con-
tai neth a full measure. Two cups thereof will
content me, but I will immediately three times
divorce from me Religion and Reason, and wed
the Daughter of the Vine.

M. K. A double-sized beaker to measure my wine I '11

take ;
Two doses to match my settled design I '11 take ;
With the first, I'll divorce me from Faith and
from Reason quite,
With the next, a new bride in the Child of the
Vine I '11 take !

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 107

To drain a gallon beaker I design, Whinfield

Yea, two great beakers, brimmed with richest (196)
wine ;
Old faith and reason thrice will I divorce,
Then take to wife the daughter of the vine.

To Wisdom's Daughter I was one time wed, Garner

Thereafter Fruitless Dogma shared my bed, d. 26)

Her too I have divorced now from my roof,
And ta'en the Daughter of the Vine instead.

Bringt einen Becher mir, so gross, class man ihn Von Schack
schwer nur hebe ! (I53)

Wenn man ihn auch nur zweimal leert, zum

Rausch genügen muss es schon.
Zuerst will ich von der Vernunft mich scheiden
und der Religion,
Und mich vermählen dann sofort dem holden
Kind der Rebe.

The second edition of FitzGerald (LVIII, 1S6S) differs from
the first only in the first line. It begins : —

You know, my Friends, hoju bravely in my House
For a new Marriage I did make Carouse.
Whinfield, 106 (1882), reads : —

To drain two beakers is my fixed design,

Two double beakers brimmed with heady ivine ;

Old faith and reason thus will I divorce.
And take to wife the daughter of the vine.
The Gulshan-i-Rdz says : —

He who by reason doth content his soul
Much store of trouble for that soul provides.
See Appendix XX.

îoS Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald For " Is " and " Is-not " though with Rule and
(lvi.) Line

18S9 And " Up-and-down " by Logic I define,
Of all that one should care to fathom, I
Was never deep in anything but — Wine.

(XLr.) For "Is" and "Is-not" though with Rule and
1859 Line,

And " Up-and-down " without, I could define,14

I yet in all I only cared to know,
Was never deep in anything but — Wine.

Nicolas

(165)

Jusques à quand passeras-tu ta vie à t'adorer
toi-même ou à chercher la cause du néant et de
l'être ? Bois du vin, car une vie qui est suivie de
la mort, il vaut mieux la passer, soit dans le
sommeil, soit dans l'ivresse.

McCarthy How long wilt thou expend thy existence on

(276) vam Self-love, or in searching for the source of

being and of not being? Drink wine, then, for

since thy life must be followed by death, thou

hadst best pass it in sleep or in drunkenness.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 109

Why spend life in vainglorious essay
All Being and Non-being to survey?

Since Death is ever pressing at your heels,
'T is best to drink or dream your life away.

Whinfield
(183)

Wie lange willst Du noch leben,

In selbstvergötterndem Streben,
Im Wahn, es müsse Deine Pflicht sein,

Den Grund zu suchen von Sein und Nichtsein?
Trink Wein ! Ein Leben, das eilt zum Tod,

Folgt nur dem einen klugen Gebot,
Sich glücklich bis an's Ende zu bringen,

Mit Wein und sonstigen guten Dingen.

Bodènstedt

(IV. 8)

The Quaritch editions of FitzGerald have a comma at the
end of the first line.
See Appendix XXI.

no Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald Ah, but my Computations, People say,

(LVll.) Reduced the Year to better reckoning ? — Nay,
1889 > y 2i,as oniy striking from the Calendar

Unborn To-morrow, and dead Yesterday.

(XXXVII.) Ah, fill the Cup : — what boots it to repeat
1859 How Time is slipping underneath our Feet :

Unborn To-morrow, and dead Yesterday,
Why fret about them if To-day be sweet !

(Lix.) Ah, but my Computations people say,
1868 Have squared the Year to Human Compass, eh ?

If so, by striking from the Calendar
Unborn To-morrow, and dead Yesterday.

Nicolas

(42)

McCarthy

(-7)

Puisque la roue céleste et le destin ne t'ont
jamais été favorables, que t'importe de compter
sept cieux ou de croire qu'il en existe huit ? Il y a
(je le répète) deux jours dont je ne me suis jamais
soucié, c'est le jour qui n'est pas venu et celui qui
est passé.

Since the heavenly wheel and fate have never
been your friends, why should you reck whether
the heavens be seven or eight? There are, I say
again, two clays for which I take no thought, the
day which has not come, and the day which has
eone for ever.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. tit

Behold the tricks this wheeling dome doth play ! Whinfield
And earth laid bare of old friends torn away! (386)

O live this present moment, which is thine
Seek not a morrow, mourn not yesterday !

Wenn das launische Schicksal Dich nicht liebt, Bodenstedt

Was kümmert's Dich denn, wieviel Himmel es (V. 4)

giebt ?
Ich mache mir um die Zeit keinen Gram,
Die schon verging und noch nicht kam.

Da, nach deinem Wunsch zu leben, dir das Von Schack

Schicksal keine Macht giebt (lS7)

Kann dich 's kümmern, ob es sieben Himmel oder

ob es acht giebt?
Was in diesem Augenblicke da ist, das nur geht

dich an,
Nicht was ehedem gewesen oder was noch

kommen kann.

Persian astrologers believed that there were seven heavens,
in the seventh of which, according to Mohammed, Paradise was
situated, with its stream of wine and its bevies of lovely dark-
eyed houris. Certain wise men argued that there were eight
heavens.

Whinfield, 3S6, is not strictly admissible here, except for the
thought ; see Whinfield, 26, p. 59.

See also Rubâiyât XXIX, XXX, and LXXIV.

ii2 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald And lately, by the Tavern Door agape,

(LVill.) Came shining through the Dicsk an Angel Shape
1889 Bearing a Vessel on his Shoulder ; and

He bid me taste of it j and "'twas — the Grape !

(XLii.) And lately, by the Tavern Door agape,
1859 Came stealing through the Dusk an Angel Shape

Bearing a Vessel on his Shoulder ; and
He bid me taste of it ; and 'twas — the Grape !

Nicolas Hier au soir, dans la taverne, cet objet de mon

(321) cœur qui me ravit l'âme (Dieu) me présenta une

coupe avec an air ravissant de sincérité et de désir
de me complaire, et m'invita à boire. "Non, lui
dis-je, je ne boirai pas. — Bois, me répondit-il,
pour l'amour de mon cœur."

McCarthy Last night in the tavern my familiar friend held

(36°) out the cup and bade me drink of it. " I will not
drink," I said, and he replied, " Drink for my
love's sake."

Whinfield Last night that idol who enchants my heart,
With true desire to elevate my heart,

Gave me his cup to drink; when I refused,
He said, " O drink to gratify my heart ! "

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 113

Meine Herzensräuberin und holde Betäuberin Bodenstedt

Reichte mir gestern einen Becher mit Wein (VIII. 46)

Und bat mich zu trinken ; ich sagte " Nein."

Doch bei ihrer Liebe beschworen

Gab ich mich bald verloren.

M. K. calls FitzGerald's version, " A tolerably close para-
phrase of the Persian words, but conveying a totally different
sense.

See Appendix XXII.

ii4 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald The Grape that can with Logic absolute

(Lix.) -phe Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute :
1889 jyie sovereign Alchemist that in a trice

Lifers leaden metal into Gold transmute :

(XLiii.) The Grape that can with Logic absolute
1859 The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects n confute:

The subtle Alchemist that in a Trice
Life's leaden Metal into Gold transmute.

Nicolas Bois du vin, car c'est lui qui mettra un terme

(*79) aux inquiétudes de ton cœur; il te délivrera de tes

méditations sur les soixante et douze nations. Ne
t'abstiens pas de cette alchimie, car, si tu en bois
un mèn seulement, elle détruira en toi mille
infirmités.

McCarthy

(2S9)

Drink wine, for therein thou shalt find forget-
fulness for all thy anxieties, and it will deliver thee
from thy meditations on the problems of the earth.
Renounce not this alchemy, for if thou drinkest
but one measure thereof, it will scatter to the winds
thy endless cares.

Whinfield Drink wine to root up metaphysic weeds,
(J94) And tangle of the two-and-seventy creeds ;
Do not forswear that wondrous alchemy,
'T will turn to sold, and cure a thousand needs.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 115

Garner

Come, fill a sparkling Cup and from the Creed

Of One and All the Seventy Sects be freed, CI- 27)

And to the Riddle of Futurity,
The Answer in the Flowing Goblet read.

Trink Wein, um Deines Herzens Unruh zu bän- Bodenstedt
digen. (IX. 80)

Und den Streit der zwei und siebzig Secten zu
endigen.

Enthalte Dich nicht dieser Alchymie :

Mit einem Kruge tausend Gebrechen heilt sie.

FitzGerald says in bis note (19): — "The Seventy-two
Religions supposed to divide the World, including Islamism,
as some think : but others not." The note to Edition I (17)
was even shorter, and ran : " The 72 Sects into which Islamism
so soon split."

Nicolas says : " Les Persans, en general, entendent par
cette expression : Les soixante et douze nations, tous les
peuples qui habitent le globe terrestre et qui sont tous divisés
par des dogmes diverses, croyant chacun en conscience pos-
séder exclusivement la vérité."

Muhammad is quoted by YVhinfïeld as saying, " My people
shall be divided into seventy-three sects, all of which, save one,
shall have their portion in the fire. (Pocock, Specimen 210)."
The fourth line of Whinfield, 105 (1SS2), reads : —

'Twill turn to gold and furnish all your needs.

There are also slight variations in punctuation. A men is
a Persian weight, according to Nicolas, of about six pounds
{environ six livres).

See Appendix XXII.

1 1 6 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald The mighty Mahmihl, Allah-breathing Lord,

That all the misbelieving and black Horde
18S9

Of Fears and Sorrows that infest the Soul

Scatters before him with his whirlwind Siuord.

(XLiv.) The mighty Mahmdd, the victorious Lord,
1859 That all the misbelieving and black Horde 18

Of Fears and Sorrows that infest the Soul
Scatters and slays with his enchanted Sword.

Whinfield Drink wine ! and then as Mahmud thou wilt reign,
^1I9' And hear a music passing David's strain:

Think not of past or future, seize to-day,
Then all thy life will not be lived in vain.

Von Shack Ein Weiterobrer Mahmud ist der Rebensaft ;
(43) \vie oft sind nicht die glaubenslosen Horden

Der Angst und Sorgen seiner Heldenkraft
Erlegen und in Flucht getrieben worden ?

Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam. 1 1 7

" The here-mentioned World Conquerer," says Von Schack,
who may possibly have translated this stanza from FitzGerald,
" is Mahmud the Gaznewid (997 to 1030 of our era), celebrated
for his mighty warlike expeditions to India. During the last
one he destroyed the great temple of Sumnat and carried back
with him the famous Sandalwood doors as trophies to his resi-
dence at Gazna. Firdüsi lived at his court.1'

FitzGerald explains the first line thus in his note (20) : —
"Alluding to Sultan Mahmiid's Conquest of India and its
dark people."

In the first edition the note reads : —

(l^) This alludes to Sultan Mahmiid's Conquest of India
and its swarthy idolaters.

The forty-fifth quatrain of FitzGerald's first edition was
omitted from those that succeeded : —

But leave the Wise to wrangle, and with me
The Quarrel of the Universe let be :
And, in some corner of the Hubbub coucht,
Make Ga?ne of that which makes as much of Thee.

Which may be compared with Whinfield, 367 : —
Chief of old friends ! hearken to what I say,
Let not heaven'' s treacherous wheel your heart dismay ;

But rest contented in your humble nook,
And watch the games that wheel is wont to play.

1 1 S Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyàm.

FitzO-erald Why, be this Juice the growth of God, who dare
(I. xi.) Blaspheme the twisted tendril as a Snare ?
jgsg A Blessing, we should use it, should we not ?

And if a Curse — why, then, Who set it there?

Nicolas Tu as mis en nous une passion irrésistible (ce

U26) qui équivaut à un ordre de toi), et d'un autre côté

tu nous défends de nous y livrer. Les pauvres
humains sont dans un embarras extrême entre cet
ordre et cette défense, car c'est comme tu ordon-
nais d'incliner la coupe et défendais d'en verser le
contenu.

McCarthy Thou hast planted in our hearts an irresistible

(g4) desire, and at the same time thou hast forbidden

us to satisfy it. In what a strait dost thou find
thyself, oh, unhappy man, between this law of thy
nature, and this commandment ? It is as if thou
wert ordered to turn down the cup, without spilling
the contents thereof.

Whinfield He binds us in resistless Nature's chain,
(265) And yet bids us our natures to restrain ;

Between these counter rules we stand perplexed,
" Hold the jar slant, but all the wine retain."

Garner Oh Thou hast made us Slaves to Passion's

(vin. 4) Sway, —

Although our Master we must ne'er obey ; —

But tell me this, how can we tip the Jar,
And still not let its Contents run away ?

Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 119

Du gabst uns Triebe, die uns gewaltsam treiben, Bodenstedt

Und befiehlt uns, wir sollen enthaltsam bleiben. (I. 18)

Durch diesen zwiespältigen Zustand

Kommen wir Armen zu keinem Ruhstand.
Es ist uns in unsrer Not

Als heischte Dein Gebot,
Einen vollen Weinkrug umzukehren

Und doch ihm, auszufliessen, zu wehren.

Gewalt'ge Leidenschaften hat uns Gott zuerst in's Von Schack

Herz gepflanzt, (i37)

Dann sagt er uns : "Ich strafe dich, wenn du sie

nicht bemeistern kannst."
Wir Armen ! Spricht ein Vater wohl : " die Schale

kehre um, mein Kind ! "
Und straft sodann das Söhnchen, wenn der Inhalt

auf den Boden rinnt ?

Whinfield, 144 (1882), reads : —

He binds us fast in nature's cogent chain,
And yet bids us our natures to restrain ;

These counter precepts how can we obey?
" Hold the jar slant, but yet the wine retain"

See Appendix XXIII.

I20 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyàm.

FitzGerald I must abjure the Balm of Life, I must,

(LXii.) Scared by some After-reckoning to? en on trust,

1889

Or lured with Hope of some Diviner Drink,

To fill the Cup — when crumbled into Dust /

(LXIV.) 1 must abjure the Balm of Life, I must,

Scared by some after reckoning ta'en on trust,
Or lured with Hope of some Diviner Drink,
When the frail Cup is crumbled into Dust !

Nicolas
(169)

On prétend qu'il existe un paradis où sont des
houris, où coule le Kooucer, où se trouve du vin
limpide, du miel, du sucre ; oh ! remplis vite une
coupe de vin et mets-la moi en main, car une
jouissance présente vaut mille jouissances futures !

McCarthy
(267)

Folk talk of Paradise where houris dwell, where
the heavenly river flows, where wine and honey
and sugar abound ! Bah ! Fill me quick a cup of
wine and put it in my hand, for a present pleasure
is worth a thousand future joys.

Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 1 2 1

Im Paradies verheisst ihr mir schwarzäugiger Von Schack
Huris Küsse, (97)

Von Wein und Honig, sagt ihr, sei dort voll das
Bett der Flüsse
Schnell her das Glas! Mehr wert ist mir ein
jetziger Genuss,

Als eine ganze Million zukünftiger Genüsse.

The Kooucer or Kausar is Muhammad's River of Paradise,
the water of which is sweeter than honey, whiter than milk.
It is mentioned in Whinfield, 459.

Behold, where'er we turn our ravished eyes,
Sweet verdure springs, and crystal Kausars rise ;

And plains, once bare as hell, now smile as heaven :
Enjoy this heaven with maids of Paradise .'

See Rubâ'iy XIII and Appendix XXIV.

122 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald Oh threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise !
(LXill.) Qne thing at least is certain — This Life flies ;
1889 Qne thing is certain and the rest is Lies ;

The Flower that once has blown for ever dies.

(xxvi.) Oh, come with old Khayyam, and leave the Wise
l859 To talk ; one thing is certain, that Life flies ;

One thing is certain, and the Rest is Lies ;
The Flower that once has blown for ever dies.

Whinfield Long must you sleep within your silent tomb,
(6°) Apart from friends, in solitary gloom;

1882 Hark, while I whisper softly in your ear,

" Never again may withered tulips bloom."

Drink wine ! long must you sleep within the tomb,
Without a friend, or wife to cheer your gloom;

Hear what I say, and tell it not again,
" Never again can withered tulips bloom."

#»' Drink ! for thou soon shalt sleep within the tomb,

Nor friend nor foe shall break the eternal gloom.

Beware ! and tell to none this secret dark, —
The faded rose may never hope to bloom.

Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyâm. 123

Gestatte den Tagen noch den Nächten auf Erden, Von Schack
Dich zu betrüben! Was immer du treibst und (3^)

thust,

Bedenke, dass stets von Neuem geboren sie werden,
Indessen auf ewi£ du dort unten ruhst !

The last line of Rubd'iy LXVI in the second edition of
FitzGerald reads : —

The Flower that once is blown for ever dies.

Otherwise it is the same as that numbered LXIII in sub-
sequent editions. The edition of 186S contained a quatrain
numbered XXXIII, and afterwards omitted, in which the last
line is identical with the above : —

Another Voice, when I am sleeping, cries,

" The Flower should open ivith the Morning skies,1'

And a retreating Whisper, as I wake —
" The Flower that once has blown for ever dies."

See Rubâ'iy VII, p. 14, and Appendix XXV.

124 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGeraid Strange, is it not .' that of the myriads who
(LXiv.) Before us passed the door of J darkness through,
1889 A\-(it one returns to tell us of the Road,

Which to discover we must travel too.

Nicolas De tous ceux qui ont pris le long chemin, quel

(217) est celui qui en est revenu pour que je lui en

demande des nouvelles? Ô ami! garde^toi de

rien laisser en vue d'un espoir quelconque dans ce

mesquin sérail, car, sache-le, tu n'y reviendras pas.

McCarthy Of all who have set out upon the long journey,

(160) who has come back, that I may ask him tidings ?

My friends, take heed to let naught go by in the

hope of hopes for, be sure, you will not come back

again.

Whinfield Who e'er returned of all that went before,
(258) To tell of that long road they travel o'er?

Leave naught undone of what you have to do,
For when you go, you will return no more.

Garner Of Those who have the " Long Road " travelled

(II. 7) o'er,

Not One will bring Thee News of it, before

Thou too shalt go, and heed Thee that Thou
leavest
Without Regret, Thou shalt return no more.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 125

Much have I wandered over vale and plain, #(>9)

Through many climes, in joy, in grief and pain,

Yet never heard men say " The traveller
Who passed this way has now returned again."

Wer hat je, der den langen Weg gemacht Bodenstedt

In's Jenseits, Kunde davon heimgebracht? (IV. 14)

Verlass Dich, Freund, hier auf kein Hoffnungs-
glück,
Denn, wenn Du scheidest, kommst Du nicht
zurück.

The last two lines of Whinfiekl, 141 (1SS2), read : —
Set not your heart on earth, you too must go
And, when you go, you will return no more.

See Appendix XXVI.

126 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGerald The Revelations of Devout and Learn',!
(i. \v.) Who rose before us, and as Prophets burned,
l839 . 1 re all but Stories, whù I/, awoke pom Sleep

They told their comrades, and to Sleep returned.

Nicolas Ceux qui sont doues de sci< vertu, qui

(464) par leur profond savoir sont devenus le flambeau
de leurs disciples, ceux là mêmes n'ont pas fait un
pas en dehors de cette nuit profonde. Ils ont
débité quelques fables et sonl rentrés dans le som-
meil (de la m<

M. k. Those who were paragons of Worth and Km.

Whose greatness torchlike lights their fellow men.
Out of this night profound no path have tr.u i d
for us ; —
Thej \e babbled dreams, then fall'n to sleep

! 11 !

Whinfield They who by genius, and by power of brain,
(209) The rank of man's enlighteners attain.

Not even they emerge from this dark night,
But tell their dreams, and fall asleep again.

Garner
(VI. 8)

And of Them All endowed with Wit and Learning,
And styled by Men 'bright Torch of Wisdom
burning,'
Not One has passed a Step beyond the Dark-
ness,
They mused a while, then left, to Sleep returning.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 127

Selbst der Tugend und Wahrheit erhabenste Mei Bodenstedt

ster, (X. 40)

Die der Welt geleuchtet als Führer der Geister,
Vermochten keinen Tritt aus der Nacht zu thun,
Erzählten uns Fabeln und gingen zu ruhn.

Selbst Jene, die es durch Wissen und Geist und Von Schack

Tugend Allen zuvorgethan, (162)

Die leuchtend ihren Schülern voran geschritten

auf dieser Lebensbahn,
Nicht lüften konnten den Schleier sie, der aller

Sterblichen Auge bedeckt ;
Sie haben einige Fabeln erzählt und dann zum

Schlummer sich hingestreckt.

The last line in the second and third editions of FitzGerald

reads : —

They told their fellows, and to Sleep returned.

Whinfield, 116 (1S82), reads : —

The shining lights of this our age, who keep
Ablaze the torch of art and science deep.

Never see day, but, whelmed in endless night,
Recount their dreams and get them back to sleep.

M. K. says that FitzGerald's version is "not so good as the
original, which is the last stanza of the Persian text as
given by Nicolas."

See Appendix XXVI.

128 Rubdiyât of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGerald / sent my Soul through the Invisible,
(lxvi.) Some letter ofthat After-life to spell :

1889 And by and by my Soul return 'd to »n\

And answer \i " / Myself am Jlear'n and Hell:"

(LXXI.) I sent my Soul through the Invisible
1868 Some letter of that After-life to spell :

And after many days my Soul retum'd
And said, 'Behold, Myself am Heav'n and Hell.'

Whinfield Pen, tablet, heaven and hell I looked to see
(i.4) Above the skies, from all eternity ;

(68, 18S2) At last the master sage instructed me,

44 Pen, tablet, heaven and hell are all in thee."

*('5) Through the unknown life's first dark day my soul
Did seek the tablet and the pen, and Paradise
and Hell.
Then read the teacher from his mystic scroll:
Tablet and pen are in thy hand, and so are
Heaven and Hell.

Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam. 129

Ein jegliches Herz, das die Liebe verklärt, Bodenstedt

Gleichviel welcher Glaube die Andacht nährt, (!■ 30

Hat die Leuchte zum Ziel alles Höchsten gefunden,
Hat Himmel und Hölle in sich überwunden.

Erkunden wollt' ich, wo der Garten Eden Von Schack

Und wo die Hölle sei, der Marterort; (335)

Da hört' ich meinen Meister also reden :
" In dir sind beide ; such sie dort ! "

Compare the "Bird Parliament," FitzGerald's version: It
is the symurgh, or " Thirty Birds," speaking from the Centre
of the Glory : —

All yon have been, and seen and done, and thought,
Not you but I, have seen and been and wrought ;
I was the Sin that from Myself rebelPd :
I the Remorse that toward Myself ' compeWd

Sin and Contrition — Retribution owed,
And canceled — Pilgrim, Pilgrimage and Road,
Was but Myself toward Myself : and Your
Arrival but Myself at my own Door.

i3o

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayydtn.

FitzGerald Heav'n but the Vision of fulfill '</ Desire,
(Lxvii.) And Hell the Shadow from a Soul on fire
l8S Cast on the Darkness into which Ourselves,

So late emerfcl from, shall so soon expire.

Nicolas L'univers n'est qu'un point de notre pauvre

(90) existence. Le Djéihoun (Oxus) n'est qu'une faible

trace de nos larmes mêlées de sang; l'enfer n'est
qu'une étincelle des peines inutiles que nous nous
donnons. Le paradis ne consiste qu'en un instant
de repos dont nous jouissons quelque-fois ici-bas.

McCarthy This world is but a hair's breadth in our wretched

(98) life. The soul but the faint trace of our blended

tears and blood. Hell is but a shadow of the vain

toils we take upon ourselves. Paradise is but the

moment's rest we sometimes taste here.

Whinfield Skies like a zone our weary lives enclose,

(9,) And from our tear-stained eyes a Jihun flows ;

Hell is a fire enkindled of our griefs ;
Heaven but a moment's peace, stolen from our
woes.

Garner

(VIII. 12)

This Universe is but a Mantle worn,

The Jehun from our flooding Tears is born,

And Hell a fire ignited by our Griefs,
And Heaven a respite from our Life forlorn.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 131

Nur als Gürtel schlingt das Weltall sich um unser Bodenstedt

dürftig Sein, (in. IO)

Eine Spur nur ist die Oxus unsrer blutigen

Thränenpein.
Nur ein Funke ist die Hölle selbsterzeugten

Qualgeschicks,
Und der Himmel nur der Segen eines ruhigen

Augenblicks.

Das Schicksal ist ein fester Gurt, der unser armes Von Schack

Sein umschliesst, (26g)

Mehr blut'ge Thränen weinen wir, als Wasser in

dem Oxus fliesst ;
Die Hölle ist ein Funken nur der Qual, in der das

Herz uns brennt,
Das Paradies nur ein Moment der Ruhe, der uns

wird gegönnt.

The second line in FitzGerald's second edition (LXXII,

186S) reads: —

And Hell the Shadow of a Soul on fire.

Whinfield, 41 (18S2), reads : —

Time is one point in our long weary years
Jihi'in a drop beside our flood of tears,
Hell but afire enkindled of our griefs,
And heaven a moment's peace stolen from our fears.

So the Gulshan-i-Raz : —

Thou art in slumber wrapped, and all thou seest
Is but a vision in His \ma.%e formed.
When on the last dread day thou shalt arvake
Then thou shalt knoiv that this was but a dream.

The chorus mourning for the woes of Prometheus sing : —

SaKpvfflffTaKTOv dir' ucrffuv padivûv 8' iï/3o/j.eva peos irapeiàv

poTiois erf-y^a Tra.ya.7s '

Shedding from tender eyes, a trickling river of tears, I wet
my cheek with fountains of rain (Prom. Des. 399).

132 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald We are no other than a moving row
(Lxviii.) Of Magic Shadow-shapes that come and go
1889 Round with the Sun-illumin'd Lantern held

In Midnight by the Master of the Show;

(XLVI.) For in and out, above, about, below,
1859 'Tis nothing but a Magic Shadow-show,

Play'd in a Box whose Candle is the Sun,
Round which we Phantom Figures come and go.19

(LXXIII.) We are no other than a moving row
1868 Of visionary Shapes that come and go

Round with this Sun-illumin'd Lantern held
In Midnight by the Master of the Show.

Nicolas Cette voûte des cieux, sous laquelle nous

(2&7) sommes la proie du vertige, nous pouvons, par la

pensée, l'assimiler à une lanterne. L'univers est
cette lanterne. Le soleil y représente le foyer de
la lumière, et nous, semblables à ces images (dont
la lanterne est ornée), nous y demeurons dans la
stupéfaction.

McCarthy This vault of heaven under which we move in a

(230) vain shadow, maybe likened unto a lantern; the

sun is the focus, and we, like the figures, live there
in amazement.

M. K.

This vault of Heaven at which we gaze astounded,
May by a painted lantern be expounded :

The light's the Sun, the lantern is the World,
And We the figures whirling dazed around it!

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 133

This wheel of heaven, which makes us all afraid, Whinfield
I liken to a lamp's revolving shade, (31Q)

The sun the candlestick, the earth the shade,
And men the trembling forms thereon portrayed.

A Turning Magic Lantern show this World, Garner

Around the Sun as Candle swiftly whirled, (IX. 4)

While mortals are but Phantom Figures traced
Upon the Shade, forever Onward hurled.

Dieses Weltall, mit dem wir uns schwindelnd Bodenstedt

drehen, (X. 39)

Ist wie eine Laterne anzusehen,
Drin die Sonne als Licht brennt, in bunten Reigen,
Uns Trugbilder — unseresgleichen — zu zeigen.

Für eine magische Laterne ist diese ganze Welt Von Schack
zu halten, (,)

In welcher wir voll Schwindel leben;
Die Sonne hängt darin als Lampe ; die Bilder aber
und Gestalten
Sind wir, die d'ran vorüberschweben.

Nous devons considérer comme une lanterne Garcin de
magique ce monde mobile où nous vivons dans Tassy
l'étourdissement. Le soleil en est la lampe, et le ' 57

monde la lanterne où nous passons comme les
figures qu'on y montre.

The first line of Whinfield, 165 (1882), reads : —

These circling heavens, which make us so dismayed.
See Appendix XXVII.

134 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyàm.

FitzGerald But helpless Pieces of the Game Jit plays
(LXix.) Upon this Chequer-board of Nights and Days ;
i88q Hither and thither moves, and chei 6s, and

And one by one back in the Closet lays.

(XI, IX.)

1859

Nicolas

McCarthy

(6.)

M.K.

Whinfield
(270)

'Tis all a Chequer-board of Nights and Days

Where Destiny with Men for Pieces plays:

Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays.
And one by one back in the Closet lays.

Nous ne sommes ici-bas que des poupées dont
la roue des cieux s'amuse, ceci est une veritd et
non un métaphore. Nous sommes, en effet, des
jouets sur ce damier des êtres, que nous quittons
enfin pour entrer un à un dans le cercueil du néant.

Here, below*, we are naught but puppets for the
diversion of the wheel of the heavens. This is
indeed a truth, and no simile. We truly are but
pieces on this chessboard of humanity, which in
the end we leave, only to enter, one by one, into the
grave of Nothingness.

But puppets are we in Fate's puppet-show —
No figure of speech is this, but in truth 't is so !
On the draughtboard of Life we are shuffled to
and fro,
Then one by one to the box of Nothing go !

We are but chessmen, destined, it is plain,
That great chess player, Heaven, to entertain ;
It moves us on life's chess-board to and fro,
And then in death's box shuts [us] up again.

Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam. 135

We all are Puppets of the Sky, we run - Garner

As wills the Player till the Game is done, (IV. 2)

And when The Player wearies of the Sport,
He throws us into Darkness One by One.

Wir sind hier nichts als ein Spielzeug des Himmels Bodenstedt

und der Natur ; ,v -.

Dies ist als Wahrheit gemeint, nicht metaphorisch

nur.
Wir gehn, wie die Steine im Bretspiel, durch vieler

Spieler Hände,
Und werden bei Seite geworfen in's Nichts, wenn

das Spiel zu Ende.

Nur Puppen, mit denen das Schicksal spielt, sind Von Schack
hier auf Erden wir, (,44)

Erkennen muss ein Jeder das, der klareren
Gesichts ;
Figuren auf dem Schachbrett gleich geschoben
werden wir,
Dann nimmt man uns hinweg und legt uns in den
Sarg des Nichts.

See Appendix, XXVIII.

The first line of Fitzgerald, LXXIV (second edition, 1868),
reads : —

Impotent Pieces of the Game He plays.

Whinfield, 148 (18S2), begins : —

We are but chessmen, who to move are fain,
Just as the great Chessplayer doth ordain.
The missing us in the last line here appears.

136 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald The Ball no question makes of Ayes and h
(LXX.) But Here or There as strikes the Player goes;
l889 And He that toss'd you down into the J-'ield,

He knows about it all — he knows — HE knows !

(L.)

1859

The Ball no Question makes of Ayes and Noes,
But Right or Left as strikes the Player goes;

And He that toss'd Thee down into the Field,
He knows about it all — he knows — HE knows ! 20

Whinfield Man, like a ball, hither and thither goes,
(40O As fate's resistless bat directs the blows

But He, who gives thee up to this rude sport
He knows what drives thee, yea, He knows, He
knows.

Garner Oh thou who art driven like a ball, by the bat of

(MS., 1895) Fate, go to the right or left — drink wine and say

nothing, for that One who flung thee into the run

and search (mêlée) he knows, he knows, he knows,

he—.

Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 137

O du ! vom Loos getrieben wie von Schlägel Ballen, von

Der du in Lust des Wein's und der Huris gefallen, Hammer-

Purgstall
Du bist gefallen auf des Ewigen Geheiss ; igiS

Er ist es, der es weiss, der's weiss, der's weiss, der's

weiss.

The second line in the second edition of Fitzgerald (LXXV,
1S6S) ha=, no commas.

He says in his note (22): "A very mysterious Line in the
Original : —

O dànad O dânad O dànad O

breaking off something like our Wood-pigeon's Note, which she
is said to take up just where she left off."

In the note (20) of the 1S59 edition the mysterious line is : —

U dânad U dânad U dânad U —
Whinfield, 204 (1S82), reads : —

Blame not this ball, impelled by bafs hard blows,
That now to right and now to left it goes ,

That One who wields the bat and smites the strokes
He knows what drives thee, yea He knows, He knows.

138 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald /'//,• Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
(I. XXI ) Moves on : nor all your I'itty nor Wit
1889

Shall lure it bat k to cancel half a Line,
Norallyour Tears washout a Wordofit.

(Li.) The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
1859 Moves on : nor all thy Piety nor Wit

Shall hire it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.

Nicolas O mon cœur! puisque le fond même des choses

(ji6) de ce monde n'est qu'une fiction, pourquoi t'aven-

turer ainsi dans un gouffre infini des chagrins?

Confie-toi au destin, supporte le mal, car ce que le

pinceau a tracé ne sera pas effacé pour toi.

McCarthy O heart, my heart, since the very basis of all this

(iS9) world's gear is but a fable, why do you adventure

in such an infinite abyss of sorrows? Trust thy-
self to Fate, uphold the evil, for what the pencil
has traced will not be effaced for you.

M. K. Since life has, love ! no true reality.

Why let its coil of cares a trouble be ?

Yield thee to Fate, whatever of pain it bring :
The Pen will never unwrite its writ for thee !

Whinfield O heart ! this world is but a fleeting show,

(257) why should its empty griefs distress thee so ?
Bow down, and bear thy fate, the eternal pen
Will not unwrite its roll for thee, I trow !

Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyàm. 139

Yes, since whate'er the Pen of Fate has traced Garner

For Tears of Man will never be erased, (iv.4)

Support thy Ills, do not bemoan thy Lot,
Let all of Fate's Decrees be bravely faced.

O Herz, da die Welt nichts als Schatten und Schein, Bodenstedt
Warum quälst Du Dich ab in unendlicher Pein ? (V. 17)

Mit ruhigem Sinn geh' dem Shicksal entgegen,
Und glaub nicht, es andre sich Deinetwegen !

O mein Herz ! da dieses ganze Weltall Lug nur Von Schack

ist und Trug, (,9I)

Was dich nur so viel mit Kummer plagst du ? Sei's

damit genug !
Unterwirf dich dem Geschicke ! Denn, wie schwer

du auch bedrängt,
Deinethalb verändern wird es nichts von dem, was

dir verhängt.

In the second (1S68) edition of Fitzgerald the above qua-
train was followed by one numbered LXXV1I and omitted in
subsequent editions. Its prototype is not known : —
For tct Philosopher and Doctor preach
Of what they will, and what they will not — each

Is but one Link in an eternal Chain.
That none can slip, nor break, nor over-reach.
In Whinfield, 140 (18S2), line 2 begins: —
Why let its empty griefs
and line 3 begins : —

Bear up and face thy fate ;
See Appendix XXIX.

140 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGeraid And that inverted Bowl they call the Skw
(LXXII.) W hereunder crawling cooped we live and die,

»889 Lift not your hands to It for help — for It

As im pott ntly moves as you or I .

(LH.) And that inverted Bowl we call The Sky.
1859 Whereunder crawling coop't we live and die,
Lift not thy hands to // for help— for It
Rolls impotently on .is Thou or I.

Nicolas N'impute pas à la roue des deux tout le bien et

(95) tout le mal qui sont dans l'homme, toutes Les joies
et tous les chagrins qui nous viennent du destin ;
car cette roue, ami, est mille fois plus embarrassée

que toi dans la voie de l'amour (divin).

McCarthy Ascribe not to the wheel of heaven the woe and

(39) weal which are the portion of man, the thousand

joys and thousand sorrows which Fate awards us,
for this wheel, my friend, revolves more helpless
than thyself along the highway of the heavenly
love.

Whinfield The good and evil with man's nature blent,

(96) The weal and woe that heaven's decrees have

sent, —
Impute them not to motions of the skies, —
Skies than thyself ten times more impotent.

Rubâiyâi of Omar Khayyam. 141

Ah do not think the Skies our Souls enthrall, Garner

The Griefs, the Joys that to us Mortals fall,

Come not from Thence, nor are they known to
Fate,
Heaven is far more helpless than us all.

Glaubt nicht, dass Alles vom Himmel bestimmt, Bodenstedt

Was Gutes und Böses im Menschen glimmt, (V. 8)

Was das Herz betrübt und das Herz erhellt,

Je nachdem es dem launischen Schicksal gefällt.
Das Himmelsrad kreist ohne Ruh

Und ist weit schlimmer daran als Du
Im Wirrsal und Getriebe

Auf der Bahn der ewigen Liebe.

Klag nicht den Himmel dafür an, dass Qual Von Schack

Und Lust und Weh der Liebe dich durchtoben, (83)

Denn so verliebt wie du, nur tausendmal
Hülfioser, taumelt er dahin dort oben.

The first line in FitzGerald's second edition (1S6S) and in
the first draught of Edition III is the same as in the first
edition. The last line in Editions II and III reads : —
As impotently rolls as you or I.

Whinfield, 45 (1882), reads (line 1) : thy nature blent.
See Appendix. XXX.

142 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGeraid With Earth's first Clay Tiny did the Last Man
(Lxxiu.,1 knead,

1889 And there of the Last Harvest sow1 d the Seed:
. lud the first Morning of Creation wrote
What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read.

(Lin.) With Earth's first Clav They did the Last Man's
1859 knead,

And then of the Last II \ M the Si

Yea, the first Morning of Creation wrote
What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read.

Nicolas

(3>)

Les choses existantes étaient déjà marquées
sur la tablette de la création. Le pinceau (de
l'univers) est sans cesse absent du bien et du mal.
Dieu a imprimé au destin ce qui devait y être
imprimé ; les efforts que nous faisons s'en vont
donc en pure perte.

All things that be were long since marked upon
the tablet of creation. Heaven's pencil has naught
to do with good or evil. God set on Fate its
necessary seal; and all our efforts are but a vain
striving.

Whinfield 'T was writ at first, whatever was to be,
(35) By pen, unheeding human misery,

Yea, writ upon the tablet once for all,
To murmur or resist is vanity.

McCarthy
(86)

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 143

Urewig vorgezeichnet ist der Dinge Kern; Bodenstedt

Der Griffel bleibt dem Guten wie dem Bösen fern ; (v- 0
Was Gott als Schicksal vorbestimmt, muss sich

vollenden,
Mag, wie er will, der eitle Mensch sich drehn und
wenden.

Whinfield, 20 (1882), reads : —

The "tablet " all our fortunes doth contain,
Writ by the " pen " that heeds not bliss nor bane ;

' T was writ at first whatever was to be,
To grieve or strive is labour all in vain.

144 Rubdiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald YESTERDAY This Day's Madness did prepare ;

(Lxxiv.) Tomorrow's Silence, Triumph, or Despair :
1889 Drink ! for you know not whence you catlte, nor

10 h y :
Drink .' for you know not why you go, nor where.

Nicolas Sois sur tes gardes, ami, car tu seras séparé de

Os) tun âme : tu iras derrière le rideau des secrets de

Dieu. Bois du vin, car tu ne sais pas d'où tu es

venu; sois dans L'allégresse, car tu ne sais pas où

tu iras.

McCarthy Be on your guard, my friend, for you will be

(180) sundered from your soul, you will pass behind the

curtain of the secrets of heaven. Drink wine, for

you know not whence you come. Be merry, for

you know not where you go.

Whinfield Make haste ! soon must you quit this life below,
(s7) And pass the veil, and Allah's secrets know ;

Make haste to take your pleasure while you may,
You wot not whence you come, nor whither go.

Garner

(VIII. 7)

Ah Brother, but a little while, and Thou shalt find
Thy Lasting Home the ' Secret Veil ' behind ; —
Rejoice Thy Heart and banish Grief, for
know, —
Thy source, Thy Goal, has never been defined.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 145

Hab' Acht ! Deine Seele wird Dir entschweben Bodenstedt
Und der Schleier der Ewigkeit sich vor Dir heben. (IX- 62>
Trink Wein, denn Du weisst nicht und kannst nicht

verstehen,
Woher Du gekommen, wohin Du wirst gehen.

Einst am Ende wird vom Leibe dir der Tod die Von Schack

Seele trennen, (207)

Das Geheimnis hinter Gottes Vorhang wirst du

dann erkennen ;
Doch bis dahin zeche tapfer, denn, wie viel du

immer spähst,
Nicht ergründest du, woher kommst und nicht,

wohin du gehst.

Wliinfield, 40 (1882), reads : —

O sott/, so soon to leave this coil below,

And pass the dread mysterious curtain through,

Be of good cheer, and joy you while you may,
You wot not whence you come, nor whither go.

146 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald I tell you this — When, started from the Goal,
(Lxxv.) Over the flaming shoulders of the Foal
1889 Of Hear' n Parwln and Mushtari they flung,

hi my predestined Plot of Dust and Soul

(Lxxvi.) The Vine had struck a fibre : which about
If clings my Being — let the Dervish flout j

Of my Base metal may be filed a Key,
That shall unlock the Poorhe howls without.

Nicolas Le jour où ce coursier céleste d'étoiles d'or fut

("°) sellé, où hi planète de Jupiter et les Pléiades furent

crée'es, dès ce jour le divan du destin fixa notre sort.

En quoi sommes-nous coupables, puisque telle est

la part qu'on nous a faite ?

McCarthy The day when the celestial steed of golden stars

(219) was saddled, when the proud planets and the con-

stellations were created — from that same day the
Divan of Fate decreed our lot. How then can we
be held accountable since ours is the position that
has been made for us ?

Whinfield When Allah yoked the coursers of the sun,
(mo) And launched the Pleiades their race to run,

(77, 1S82) My lot was fixed in fate's high chancerv :

Then why blame me for wrong that fate has done?

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâtn. 147

Seit das Himmelsross läuft auf goldenen Pfaden, Bodenstedt
Seit Jupiter leuchtet zusammt den Plejaden, (v- »)

War unser Schicksal beschlossen im Himmelsrat, —
Ist's unsre Schuld, wenn wir es machen zur That?

Am Tag, als das rollende Rad des Himmels zu Von Schack

kreisen begann, (264)

Als Jupiter seinen Lauf in den himmlischen Gleisen

begann,
Ward schon mein Wesen und Thun vom Schicksal

festgestellt ;
Was spricht man von Strafe mir denn in einer

anderen Welt?

FitzGerald's note (23) is: " Parwin and Mushtari — The
Pleiads and Jupiter." For his 1S59 version and further pos-
sibilities of source, see p. 14S. See also Appendix XXXL

14S Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGeraid I tell Thee this — When, starting from the Goal,
(Liv.) Over the shoulders of the flaming Fool

«859 Of Ufa-,' n Parwin and Mushtara theyflungf*
In my predestined Plot of Dust and Soul

(LV.)
«8S9

The Vine had struck a Fibre; which about
If clings my Being — let the Sufi flout;
Of my Hast- Metal may be filed a Key,
That shall unlock the Poor he howls without.

Nicolas Oui, jo bois du vin, et quiconque comme moi est

clairvoyant trouvera que cet acte est insignifiant
aux yeux de la Divinité. De toute éternité Dieu
a su que je boirais du vin. Si je n'en buvais pas
sa prescience serait pure ignorance.

McCarthy Yea, drink wine, for by him who is far-seeing as

(6) I am, it will be found that in the eyes of the Deity

the act is of small account. God from all time
has foreseen that I should drink wine. If I drank
not this fore-knowledge would become ignorance,
or I should not fulfil his fore-knowledee.

"Whinfleld True I drink wine, like every man of sense,
(■97) For I know Allah will not take offence;

(107, 1882) Before time was. IK- knew that I should drink,

And who am I to thwart His prescience?

Hammer-
Purgstall

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 149

From all Eternity 't was known to One Garner

The Sovereign Wine Cup I would never shun, üv- »)

And if I failed to drink this Purple Juice, —
God's boasted Prescience would be undone.

Ich trinke Wein und jeder trinket der gescheit, Von

Verzeihung ist dafür mir bey dem Herrn bereit.
Von ewig wusste Gott, ich würde trinken Wein,
Drum wenn ich ihn nicht tränk, Gott müsst' un-
wissend seyn.

Ja, ich trinke gern Wein, und wer klaren Gesichts Bodenstedt

ist (VII. 2)

Wie ich, der weiss, dass vor Gott dies Nichts ist.
Von ewig her kennt Gott meine Liebe zum Wein,
Soll ich ihn nun nüchtern des Irrtums zeihn?

Ja, ich trinke Wein und Jeder, der Verstand hat, Von Sehack

weiss : mein Zechen (287)

Wird mir nicht in Gottes Augen angerechnet als

Verbrechen.
Schon von Ewigkeit her wusste Gott, dass Wein

ich trinken würde,
Tränk' ich also nicht, so würd' es seiner Weisheit

widersprechen.

See pp. 146, 147, and Appendix XXXI.

150 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGeraid And this I know : whether the one True Light
(LXXVII.) Kindle to Love, or Wrath-consume me quite,
»889 One flash of It -within the Tavern caught

Better than in the Temple lost outright.

(LVI.) And this I know : whether the one True Light,
1859 Kindle to Love, or Wrathconsume me quite,

One Glimpse of It within the Tavern caught
Better than in the Temple lost outright

Nicolas J'aime mieux être avec toi dans la taverne, et te

(222) dire la mes secrètes pensées, que d'aller sans toi
faire la prière au mehrab. Oui, ô Créateur de tout
ce qui fut et de tout ce qui est! telle est ma foi,
soit que tu me fasses brûler, soit que tu m'accordes
tes faveurs.

McCarthy I would rather in the tavern with thee pour out

(87) all the thoughts of my heart, than without thee go

and make my prayer unto heaven. This, truly, <)
Creator of all things present and to come, is my
religion ; whether thou castest me into the flames,
or makest me glad with the light of thy countenance.

Whinfleld In taverns better far commune with Thee,

(262) Than pray in mosques, and fail Thy face to see !
O first and last of all Thy creatures Thou ;
'T is Thine to burn, and Thine to cherish me !

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyàm. 151

Ich mag lieber mit Dir sein in der Schenke, Bodenstedt

Um Dir Alles zu sagen, was ich denke, (I. 17)

Als ohne Dich vor die Kanzel treten,

In gedankenlosen Worten zu beten.
Ja, Du Schöpfer aller Dinge

Im kreisenden Weltenringe,
So will ich leben und sterben,

Zum Segen oder Verderben !

Weit lieber mit einer Schönen mag ich im Wein- Von Schack
haus plaudern, (i7)

Als ohne sie in den Moscheen beten ;
Ja, Gott, ich wage sonder zagen und zaudern
Mit diesem Glaubensbekenntnis vor dich zu
treten.

In the second edition of FitzGerald there is a comma after
Light.

Whinfield, 142 (1882), reads: —

In taverns oft Thy presence I discern,

When dwellers in the Mosque Thy absence mourn :

O Thou, the first, the last, the all in all,
' Tis Thine to save or, an Thou list, to burn !

See Appendix XXXII.

152 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayydm,

FitzGeraid What ! out of senseless Nothing to provoke
(Lxxviii.) ../ conscious Something to resent the yoke
1889 oj unpermitted Pleasure^ under pain

( )f Everlasting J 'enai 'ties, if broke!

Nicolas
(99)

Lorsque Dieu a confectionné la boue de mon
corps, il savait quel serait le résultat de mes
Ce n'est pas sans ses ordres que je commets les
péchés dont je suis coupable; dans ic cas, pour-
quoi au jour dernier brûler dans l'enfer?

McCarthy When God built up my body out of clay, he

(112) knew beforehand the fruit of .ill my deeds. It is

not in defiance of his will that I a sinner have

sinned. Why then tor me does nether hell await?

M. K. When the Supreme my body made of clay,

He well foreknew the part that I should play:

Not without His ordainment have I sinned !

Why would He then 1 burn at Judgment-day?

Whinfield When Allah mixed my clay, He knew full well
(100) My future acts, and could each one foretell ;

Without His will no act of mine was wrought ;
Is it then just to punish me in hell ?

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 153

'Tvvas Allah who engraved upon my Clay Garner

The Laws I was thereafter to obey, (IV- 5)

And will He cast me into Raging Fire,
Because my Actions answer to His Sway ?

Als mich Gott geknetet aus Thon, auf Erden zu Bodenstedt
wandeln, {Y. 10)

Kannt' er genau vorher mein Streben und Handeln.

Da ich so sündhaft nur, wie Gott es wollte, geraten,

Warum am jüngsten Tag noch in der Hölle mich
braten ?

Als meinen Körper Gott aus Lehm erschaffen hat, Von Schack
Musst' im Voraus er schon mein Thun und (213)
Handeln kennen ;
Es war auf sein Geheiss, wenn ich was Böses that ;
Und sollt' ich nun dafür noch in der Hölle
brennen ?

The last two lines of Whinfield, 46 (1SS2), read : —
' Twas he who did my sins predestinate,
Yet thinks it just to punish me in hell.

See Appendix XXXIII.

i i Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGeraid What! from his helpless Créature be repaid
(lxxix ) Pure Gold/or what he lent him dross-al
Sue for a Debt he never did contrat t,
And cannot answer — Oh the sorry trade !

(i. \\\v i what : from his helpless Creature be repaid
Pure Gold for what he lent us dross-allay'd.
Sue for a I >ebt we never did contrai I

And cannot answer ( >h the sorry trade !

Nicolas
(91)

Je suis un esclave révolté: où est ta volonté?

J "ai le cœur noir de OÙ est ta lumière, où

est ton contrôle? Si tu n'accordes le paradis qu'a
notre obéissance (a tes lois), c'est une dette dont
tu t'acquittes, et dans ce cas que deviennent ta
bienveillance et ta mise'ricorde ?

McCarthy
(189)

I am a rebellious slave: where is thy will ? My
heart is defiled with sins: where is thy light?

Where is thy control? If thou wilt only bestow
paradise on those who obey thy laws it is a debt
which thou payest, and where then is thy mercy?

Whinfield If men rebel, what of omnipotence ?

(42) And if they wander, what of providence ?

1882 If heaven be earned by works, as wages due,

What room for mercy and benevolence ?

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 155

Ich bin ein Sclav', der die Kette bricht — Bodenstedt

Wo ist Dein Wille? er hemmt mich nicht. (I- m)

Mein Herz ist schwarzer Sünden voll —

Wo ist Dein Licht, das mir leuchten soll?
Kommt nur der Fromme in's Himmelreich,

So kommt der Lohn dem Verdienste gleich —
Wo aber bleibt bei unsrer Schuld

Dann Dein Erbarmen, Deine Huld ?

Ich bin ein Sklave, der sich empört; wie reimt Von Behack.

sich das mit deiner Macht ? <288)

Bist du das Licht, was lassest du mich verkommen

in der Sündennacht ?
Und, werden zum Paradies allein die Frommen

zugelassen,
Wo bleibt da deine Barmherzigkeit? Das kann

mein Geist nicht fassen.

In FitzGerald's second edition (1868) the above quatrain was
followed by one numbered LXXXVI, afterwards expunged : -
See Rubâiyât illustrative of LXXXVIII (p. 170, i), and
Appendix XXXVIII.

Nay, but, for terror of his wrathful Face
I swear I will not call Injustice Grace ;

Not one Good Fellow of the Tavern but
Would kick so poor a Coward from the place.

Whinfield, 93 (1883), reads : —

/ drown in sin — show me Thy clemency !
My soul is dark — make me Thy light to see !

A heaven that must be earned by painful works,
I call a wage, not a gift fair and free.

156 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm.

PitzGeraid oh Thou, who didst with pitfall and with gin
(i. xxx.) Beset the Road I was to wander in,

Thou wilt not with Predestined Evil round
Enmesh, and then impute my Fall to Sin !

(LVii.) oil, Thou, who didst with Pitfall and with Gin
l8S9 Beset the Road I was to wander in,

Thou wilt not with Predestination round
Enmesh me, and impute my Fall to Sin?

Nicolas (D'un côté) tu as dresse" deux cent embûches

(390) autour de nous; (d'un autre côté) tu nous dis:
"Si vous y mette/ le pied vous serez trappes de
mort." C'est toi qui tends les pièges, et quiconque
y tombe, tu l'interdis! tu lui donnes la mort, tu
l'appelles rebelle !

McCarthy Thou settest snares around us manifold, and

(296) sayest, " Death to ye, if ye enter therein." Thou
layest the lures thyself, and then givest over thy
victim to doom.

Whinfield With many a snare Thou dost beset my way,
(432) And threatenest, if I fall therein, to slay ;

Thy rule resistless sways the world, yet Thou
Imputest sin, when I do but obey.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 157

Thou hast prepared a Way with many a Snare, Garner
And set with many a Prize to lure us there, (ir. 3)

And still, Oh God, 'tis said, Thou wilt not spare,
The Man whose Foot-steps stumble unaware.

Von allen Seiten hast Du uns mit Schlingen bedroht Bodenstedt
Und sprichst: wer hineinfällt, den trifft der Tod. 01- 22)

Du suchst selbst uns verlockende Fallen zu stellen
Und strafst dann, wen sie verlockt, als Rebellen.

Auf der einen Seite hundert Fallen hast du Von Schack
aufgestellt, ('68)

Auf der andern drohst mit Tod du Jedem, der in
eine fällt.

Sprich, da du die Schlingen legtest, denen schwer
der Mensch entgeht,

Ziemt es dir, ihn zu bestrafen, wenn er just hinein-
gerät ?

In the second edition of FitzGerald (LXXXVII, 1S6S), the
third line has predestined and the last line ends with a question-
mark.

Whinfield, 224 (1882), reads: —

Thou dost with frequent snare beset the way
The pilgrim's wandering footsteps to betray,

And all poor wretches tangled in thy snares
Dost seize as prisoners and as rebels slay.

See Appendix XXXIII.

1 5 S Rubâiydt of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGerald Oh Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make.
And ev'n with Paradise devise the Snake:

For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man
Is blacken1 d — Mart s forgiveness give — and take !

(LXXXI.)
1889

(LViii.) oil, Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make,
,859 And who with Eden didst devise the Snal

For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man
Is blacken'd, .Man's Forgiveness give — and take !

(i. xxxviii) oh Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make
1868 And ev'n with Paradise devise (lie Snake:

For all the Sin the Face "I wret< hed Man
Is black with — Man's Forgiveness give — and

take!

Nicolas O toi, qui connais les secrets les plus cache's an

(236) fond du cœur de chacun, toi qui relèves de ta main

ceux qui tombent dans la détresse, donne-moi la
force de la renonciation et agrée mes excuses. 6
Dieu ! toi qui donnes cette force à tous, qui agrées
les excuses de tous.

McCarthy O thou who knowest man's most hidden

(49) thoughts, thou who upholdest the halt with thy

hands, give me strength to renounce, and heed my

pleading, O thou who art the strength of all men,

heed my pleading.

Whinfield O Thou! who know'st the secret thoughts of all,
(276) In time of sorest need who aidest all,

Grant me repentance, and accept my plea,
O Thou who dost accept the pleas of all !

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 159

O Du, der aller Menschen Gedanken und Herzen Bodenstedt
geprüft, (1. 20)

Und Jeglichen wieder erhebt, der durch Schmer-
zen geprüft ;

Dass Du Erhebung auch mir, der in Sünden
gefallen, gewährst,

Fleh' ich Dich an, o Herr! wie Du sie Allen
gewährst.

Professor Cowell, Fitzgerald's Persian teacher, is quoted by
Mr. William Aldis Wright as saying in regard to this quatrain :

" There is no original for the line about the snake : I have
looked for it in vain in Nicolas; but I have always supposed
that the last line is FitzGerald's mistaken version of quatrain
236 in Nicolas's edition, which runs thus : —
O thou who knowest the secrets of every one's mind.
Who çraspest every one's hand in the hour of weakness,
O God, give me repentance and accept my excuses,
O thou -who givest repentance and acee/iest the excuses of

every one.
Fitzgerald mistook the meaning of giving and accepting as used
here, and so invented the last line out of his own mistake. 1
wrote to him about it when I was in Calcutta ; but he never
cared to alter it."

Whinfield, 152 (18S2), reads: —

O Thou who hnow'st the hearts of one and all,
In hours of need who aidest one and all,

Grant me repentance, and accept my plea.
Who dost accept the pleas of one and all.

See Appendix XXXIV.

i6o Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGeraid As under cover of departing Day
(Lxxxn.) Slunk hunger-stricken Ramazân away,
1889 Once more within the Potter's house alone

I stood, surrounded by the Shapes of Clav.

(LXXXIII.) Shapes of all Sorts and Sices, great and small,
1889 That stood along the floor and by the wall ;

Ami some loquacious vessels were j and some
Listen \t perhaps, but never talked at all.

(xc.) And once again there gather'd a scarce heard
,868 Whisper among them; as it were, the stirr'd

Ashes of some all but extinguish! Tongue
Which mine ears kindled into living Word.

KÜZA NAMA.
(Lix.) Listen again. One Evening at the Close
,S59 Of Ramazân, ere the better Moon arose,
In that old Potter's Shop I stood alone
With the clay Population round in Rows.

Nicolas Je suis entré dans l'atelier d'un potier. J'y ai vu

(431) l'ouvrier auprès de sa roue, activement occupé à

mouler des goulots et des anses de cruches, les

unes formées de têtes de rois et les autres de pieds

de mendiants.

McCarthy I passed into the potter's house of clay, and saw

(393) the craftsman busy at his wheel, turning out pots

and jars fashioned from the heads of kings, and
the feet of beggars.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 161

It chanced into a potter's shop I strayed, Whinfield

He turned his wheel and deftly plied his trade, (466)

And out of monarchs' heads, and beggars' feet,
Fair heads and handles for his pitchers made !

I chanced a Potter at his Work to meet, Garner

While Heads and Handles for his Vessels neat, (vu. 3)

Upon his swiftly turning wheel he shaped; —
From Mouldering
Feet.

Einen Töpfer hab' ich beim Werke gesehen Bodenstedt

Den Krügen Hälse und Henkel zu drehen ; (X. 17)

Er nahm den Stoff zu den Thongeschöpfen
Aus Bettlerfüssen und Königsköpfen.

Den Töpfer in seiner Werkstatt zu grüssen, Von Schack

Heut ging ich und fand ihn bei'm Formen von (49)

Töpfen ;

Er machte die Rundung aus Bettlerfüssen,
Den Henkel aber aus Königsköpfen.

Kuza-Naïna means " the Book of Pots." See Rubâ'iy
LXXXVII; see also Appendices XIV, XXXV, and XXXVII.
Whinfield, 240 (1SS2), begins : —

Last night into a potter's shop I strayed,

Who turned his wheel, etc.

IÖ2

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald Said one among them — " Surely not in rain
(lxxxiv.) « My substance of the common Earth was to1 en
" And to this Figure moulded, to be broke,
" Or trampled back to shapeless Earth again"

(I. XI.) Then said another — " Surely not in vain
«859 •• My Substance from the common Earth was ta'en,
"That He who subtly wrought me into Shape
" Should stamp me back to common Earth again."

(XCI.) Said one among them — " Surely not in vain
1868 '• My Substance from the common Earth was ta'en,
"That He who subtly wrought me Into Shape
"Should stamp me back to shapeless Earth
again ? "

Nicolas Lorsque mon âme et la tienne nous aurons

(349) quittés, on placera une paire de briques sur ma

tombe et la tienne. Puis, pour couvrir les tombes

des autres avec d'autres briques, dans le moule du

briquetier on jettera ma poussière et la tienne.

McCarthy When my soul and thine have flitted, they will

(363) place a couple of bricks upon my grave and thine.
Then to make bricks for other tombs they will
send to the kiln my dust and thine.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 163

When life has fled, and we rest in the tomb, "Whinfield

They '11 place a pair of bricks to mark our tomb ; (391 )

And, a while after, mould our dust to bricks,
To furnish forth some other person's tomb!

Wenn Dir Deine Seele genommen wird und mir Bodenstedt
meine, (vm. 59)

Legt man auf Dein und mein Grab ein Par Steine.
Und später, auch andere Gräber mit Steinen zu
decken,

Nimmt man unsern Staub und zermalmt gar unsre
Gebeine.

Bald, beraubt des Lebensbaumes werden wir dort "Von Schack

unten ruh'n, (6)

Bald mit Ziegeln decken wird man dein Grab und

das meine nun ;
Dann, um and'rer Menschen Gräber auch mit

Ziegeln zu bedecken,
In den Ziegelofen wird man deinen Staub und

meinen thun.

See Appendix XXXVI.

164 Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGeraid Then said a Second — '• Ne \-r a peevish Boy

(I. xxxv.) '' Would break the Bowl from which lie drank in

joy,
" And ll< that with his hand the I 'esse/ made
" Will surely not in after Wrath destroy."

(LXii.) Another said — ' Why, ne'er a peevish Boy,
1859 " Would break the Howl from which he drank in

J°y ;

" Shall He that made the Vessel in pure Love
" And Fansy, in an after Rage destroy ! "

(XCII.) Another said, " Why, ne'er a peevish Boy
,s,,s " Would break the Cup from which he drank in
Joy ;
'• Shall He that of his own free Fancy made
■• The Vessel, in an after-rage destroy ! "

Nicolas
(38)

Qui croira jamais que celui qui a confectionné la
coupe puisse songer à la détruire? Toutes ces
helles têtes, tous ces beaux bras, toutes ces mains
charmantes, par quel amour ont-ils été créés, et
par quelle haine sont-ils détruits ?

McCarthy Who can believe that he who made the cup

(100) would dream of destroying it ? All those fair

faces, all those lovely limbs, all those enchanting

bodies, what love has made them, and what hate

destroys them ?

Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam. 165

Behold these cups ! Can He who deigned to make Whmfield
them, (42)

In wanton freak let ruin overtake them,

So many shapely feet and hands and heads, —

What love drives Him to make, what wrath to
break them ?

What man believes that He who made the Vase Garner
Will sometime shatter it in Anger base ? (VIII. s)

The Maker of these weak misguided Men
Will surely not in Wrath His Works efface.

Wer glaubt, dass seine eigenen Geschöpfe Bodenstedt

Der Schöpfertötet ! — Diese schöne Köpfe, (in. 5)

Reizvollen Hand' und Füsse : schuf bethört
Die Liebe sie dass sie der Hass zerstört ?

Lässt es denken sich ? Derselbe, der des Bechers Von Schack
Schönheit schuf, (61)

Wie, ihn wieder zu zerbrechen, sagt mir, findet er
Beruf ?

Alle diese schönen Köpfe, alle diese zarten Glieder,

Welche Liebe hat sie erschaffen ? welcher Hass
zerstört sie wieder?

Whinfield, 22 (iSS2), reads : —
Behold these cups, he takes such pains to make them,
And then enraged lets ruin overtake them ;

So many shapely feet, and heads, and hands,
What love drives him to make, what wrath to break them ?

See Appendix XXXVI.

1 66 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGerald After a momentary silence spake
(LXXXVI.) Some Vessel of a more ungainly make ;
l88g " Tiny sneer at me for leaning all awry :

" What! did the Hand then of the Potter
shake ? "

(LXIII.)

1859

None ansvver'd this ; but after Silence spake
A Vessel of a more ungainly Make :

" They sneer at me for leaning all awry ;
" What ! did the Hand then of the Totter shake ?"

Whinfield The Master did himself these vessels frame,

(126) Why should he cast them out to scorn and shame ?

If he has made them well, why should he break
them ?
Yea, though he marred them, they are not to blame.

Nicolas C'est toi qui disposes du sort des vivants et des

(436) morts; c'est toi qui gouvernes cette roue désor-
donnée des cieux. Bien que je sois mauvais, je ne
suis que ton esclave, tu es mon maître ; quel est
donc le coupable ici-bas? N'es-tu pas le créateur
de tout ?

McCarthy Thou who commandest the quick and the dead,

(344) the wheel of heaven obeys thy hand. What if I

am evil, am I not thy slave? Which then is the
guilty one ? Art thou not lord of all ?

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 167

Who framed the lots of quick and dead but Thou ? Whinfield
Who turns the troublous wheel of heaven but (47i)

Thou ?
Though we are sinful slaves, is it for Thee
To blame us ? Who created us but Thou ?

Du, Herr, bist der Lenker von Leben und Tod, Bodensteüt

Es kreist Himmel und Erde nach Deinem Gebot. (il.6)

Wenn ich schlecht als Dein Sclav' bin, was kann

ich dazu ?
Der Schöpfer und Lenker von Allem bist Du !

Du bist der Gebieter, du lenkst das Geschick der Von Schack

Lebenden und der Toten, (29,)

Das rollende Rad des Himmels kreis't allein nach

deinen Geboten ;
Wohl bin ich schlecht; doch schaltest du mit

mir nach deinem Gefallen?
Kann Einer schuldig auf Erden sein? Bist du

nicht der meister von Allen ?

The first line in the third edition of Fitzgerald (XCIII,
1S68) reads : —

None answered this ; but after silence spake.
Whinfield, 242 (1SS2), reads : —

Who framed the lots of quick and dead but T/iotc ?
Who turns the wheel of baleful fate but Thou ?

We are Thy slaves, our wills are not our own,
We are Thy creatures, our creator Thou !

Whinfield, 52 (1SS2), is as follows : —

The potter did himself these vessels frame,

What makes him cast them out to scorn and shame ?

If he has made them well, why should he break them?
And though he marred them, they arc not to blame.

i68 Rut 'ai) at oj Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald Whereat some one of the loquacious Lot —
(Lxxxvn.) f think a Sûfi pipkin - waxing hoi —

0(J Ci ./// this of J'ot and Potter — Tell me then,

1009 j

" Who is the Potter, pray, and who the Pot? "

(LX.) And, strange to tell, among that Earthen Lot

1859 Some could articulate, while others not:

And suddenly one mure impatient cried —
" Who is the Totter, pray, and who the Pot?"

(XCIV.) Thus with the Dead as with the Living, What?
,368 And Why? so ready, hut the Where/or not.

One on a sudden peevishly exclaim'd,
" Which is the Potter, pray, and which the Pot?"

Nicolas Hier, j'ai visité l'atelier d'un potier; j'y ai vu

(24.5) deux milles cruches, les unes parlant, les autres

silencieuses. Chacunes (Telles semblait me dire:

" Où est donc le potier ? Où est l'acheteur de

cruches? Où en est le vendeur?''

McCarthy Yesterday I visited the workshop of a potter:

(i,5) there I beheld two thousand pots, some speaking,

and some holding their peace. Each one seemed

to say to me, " Where is then the potter, where the

buyer of pots, where the seller ? "

M. K. To a potter's shop, yestreen, I did repair ;

Two thousand dumb or chattering pots were there.
All turned to me, and asked with speech distinct :
"Who is't that makes, that buys, that sells our
ware ? "

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 169

Once in a potter's shop, a company "Whinfield

Of cups in converse did I chance to see, (2S »

And lo ! one lifted up his voice, and cried,
- Who made, who sells, who buys this crockery ?"

Last Night into a Potter's Shop I strayed, Garner

Where Jars and Pots a many were displayed, (XI. 4)

And All cried out : where is the Potter now,
And those who bought and sold, where are they
laid ?

Bei einem Töpfer sah ich gestern zweitausend Bodenstedt
Krüge, (IV. .6)

Die einen stumm, die andern redend, als ob jeder
f rüge :

Wer hat uns geformt und wo stammen wir her ?

Wer ist hier der Käufer, und der Verkäufer, wer?

Gestern in des Töpfers Werkstatt sah ich hundert Von Schack

Kruge steh'n (226)

Und mir war, durch ihre Reihen hört' ich ein

Geflüster geh'n :
" Selber war ich einst ein Töpfer. — Ich, zum

Kruge jetzt verwandelt,
Einst von dir, dem Warenhändler, hab' ich Krüge

eingehandelt."

The second and third lines of Whinfield, 1 56 (18S2), read : —
Of goodly cups and jars I did espy

And when they saw me one cried out and said.

See Rubaiyât LXXX1I and LXXXIII

For FitzGerald's note (24), see Appendix XXXVII.

The note No. (22) is missing in FitzGerald LX, 1S59.

170 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyàm.

FitzGerald " Why" said another, " Some there are who tell
(LXXXVIII.) « Of one who threatens he will toss to Hell

l889 " The luckless Pots he marr\i in making — Pish !

" He's a Good Fellow, and ' t will all be well."

(LXIV.) Said one — " Folks of a surly Tapster tell,
1859 "And daub his Visage with the Smoke of Hell;

" They talk of some strict Testing of us — Pish !
" He's a Good Fellow, and 'twill all be well."

(XCV.) Said one — " Folks of a surly Master tell,
1868 "And daub his Visage with the Smoke of 1 1 ell ;

" They talk of some sharp Trial of us — Pish !
" He's a good Fellow, and 'twill all be well."

Nicolas On dit qu'au jour dernier il y aura des pour-

('78) parlers, et que cet ami chéri (Dieu) se mettra en

colère. Mais de la bonté même il ne peut émaner

que le bien. Sois donc sans crainte, car à la fin tu

le verras plein de douceur.

McCarthy It is said that there will be judgment at the last

U8") day, and that the beloved Friend will be enraged.

But from the eternal Goodness, good alone can

proceed. Fear not, therefore, for thou shalt find

mercy at the last.

Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyàm. 171

They say, when the last trump shall sound its knell, Whinfield
Our Friend will sternly judge, and doom to hell. ^'93'

Can aught but good from perfect goodness come ?
Compose your trembling hearts, 'twill all be well.

Gerichte (II. 3)

Und der Herr wird erscheinen mit zornigem

Gesichte
Doch vom Allmächtigen kann nichts kommen als

Gutes,
Darum fürchte Dich nicht, sondern sei guten

Mutes !

Mann sagt : am jüngsten Tag dereinst wird streng Von Schack

Gericht gehalten (75)

Und droben unser Freund wirft dann voll Zorn die

Stirn in Falten.
Doch kann wer gut ist Böses thun? Wie lässt

sich das verbinden ?
Sei ohne Sorge nur ! zuletzt wirst du ihn huldvoll

finden.

See Appendices XXXIII and XXXVIII.

172 Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald " Well" murmur 'ä one, " Let whoso make or buy,
(LXXXix.) "My Clay with long Oblivion is gone dry :
1889 " Hut Jill me with the old familiar Juice,

" Methinks I might recover by and by."

(F,xv.) Then said another with a Long-drawn Sigh,
1859 •' My Clay with lung oblivion is gone dry :

'• Hut, fill me with the old Eamiliar Juice,
" Methinks 1 might recover by-and-bye ! "

(XCVl.) Well said another, " Whoso will, let try,
1868 " My Clay with long Oblivion is gone dry:

" but, fill nie with the old familiar Juice,
" Methinks I might recover by-and-bye."

Nicolas Lorsque, la tête renversée, je serai tombé aux

(290) pieds de la mort; lorsque cet ange destructeur

m'aura réduit à l'état d'un oiseau déplumé, alors
gardez-vous de faire de ma poussière autre chose
qu'un flacon, car peut-être le parfum du vin qu'il
contiendra me fera-t-il revivre un instant.

McCarthy When the day arriveth, when, with my head

(125) thrown back, I fall at the feet of death, when the

destroying angel shall have made me like unto a
bird without feathers ; oh, then, see thou that of my
dust a wine-flagon is formed — for who can say but
that the odour of the wine may re-inform my clay ?

Rubaiyât of Omar Khayyàm. 173

When Fate, at her foot, a broken wreck shall fling M. K.

me,
And when Fate's hand, a poor plucked fowl shall

wring me ;
Beware, of my clay, aught else than a bowl to

make,
That the scent of the wine new life in time may

bring me !

When Death shall tread me clown upon the plain, Whinfield
And pluck my feathers, and my life-blood drain, (330)

Then mould me to a cup, and fill with wine ;
Haply its scent will make me breathe again.

Sink' ich häuptlings dem Engel des Todes zu Bodenstedt
Füssen, (VII. 6)

Wie ein gerupfter Vogel mein Leben zu büssen,

So macht eine Weinflasche aus meinem Staube;

Vielleicht belebt mich dann wieder der Geist der
Traube.

Einst werden zu Staube meine Glieder, Von Schack

Der Staub wird zu Krügen verwandelt sein ; (309)

Doch, füllt man diese Krüge mit Wein,

Aufleben werd' ich vor Freude wieder.

The first two lines of Whinfield, 175 (1S82), read : —
When death has trod to dit si my lifeless brain,
And shed my lively plumage on the plain.

See Appendix XXXIX.

174 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâtn.

FitzGerald So while the Vessels one by one were speaking,
(XC.) fjie little Moon look'd in that all were seeking:
1889 j{nci then they jogged each other, " Brother !

Brother /
" Now for the Porter's shoulder-knot a-creaking! "

(LXVI.) So while the Vessels one by one were speaking,
l859 One spied the little Crescent all were seeking:

And then they jogg'd each other, "Brother!
Brother !
" Hark to the Porter's Shoulder-knot a-creakine: ! "

(XCVII.) So while the Vessels one by one were speaking,
1868 One spied the little Crescent all were seeking25

And then they jogg'd each other, Brother!
Brother !
" Now for the Porter's shoulder-knot a-creaking ! "

Whinfield Now Ramazân is past, Shawwâl comes back,
(218) And feast and song and joy no more we lack ;

The wine-skin carriers throng the streets and cry,
" Here comes the porter with his precious pack."

Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyâm, 175

FitzGerald says in his note (25) : —

" At the Close of the Fasting Month, Ramazan (which makes
the Mussulman unhealthy and unamiable), the first Glimpse of
the New Moon (who rules their division of the Year) is looked
for with the utmost Anxiety, and hailed with Acclamation.
Then it is that the Porter's Knot may be heard — toward the
Cellar. Omar has elsewhere a pretty Quatrain about the same
Moon : —

" Be of Good Cheer — the sullen Month will die,
" And a young Moon requite us by and by :

" Look how the Old one meagre, bent, and wan
" With Age and Fast, is fainting from the Sky ! "
In the note to the first edition there is no dash, the word
Cellar is followed by "perhaps"; and Omar bears the epithet
Old.

Compare the last half of Nicolas, 94 : —
Livre-toi à la joie, car ce même clair de lune éclairera bien
longtemps encore (après nous) la surface de la terre.

McCarthy 47 : —

Give thyself up to joy, for this same moon will illumine long
after us the face of the earth.

FitzGerald was capable of kindling from such a meagre, bent,
and wan original an inspiration like that in the note.

Von Schack, 306, may possibly be only a translation from
FitzGerald : —

Schon naht der neue Mond, der tr'ostungsreich

Der langen Fasten Ende uns verkündet;
Sieh ! wie der alte mager, matt und bleich

Von Nüchternheit dort hin am Himmel schwindet '

See Appendix XXXV for Rubaiyät referring to Ramazân.

176 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide ;

(XCi.) And wash the Body whence the Life has died,
1SS9 And lay me, shrouded in the living Leaf,

By some not unfrequented Garden-side.

(LXVll.) Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide,
1859 And wash my Body whence the Life has died,

And in the Windingsheet of Vine-leaf wrapt,
So bury me by some sweet Garden-side.

Nicolas O mes chers compagnons ! versez-moi du vin, et

(109) par ce moyen rendez à mon visage, jaune comme

l'ambre, la couleur du rubis. Quand je serai mort,

lavez-moi dans du vin, et du bois de la vigne qu'on

fasse mon brancard et mon cercueil !

McCarthy Oh, my dear companions, pour me wine to make

(154) my countenance clear with the colour of rubies.

When I am dead, wash me in wine, and make my
litter and my coffin of the wood of the vine.

M. K. Let wine, gay comrades, be the food I 'm fed

upon ; —
These amber cheeks its ruby light be shed upon !
Wash me in 't, when I die ; — and let the trees
Of my vineyard yield the bier that I lie dead upon !

Whinfield Comrades ! I pray you, physic me with wine,
(,39) Make this wan amber face like rubies shine,

(76 l8g2) And, if 1 die, use wine to wash my corpse,

And frame my coffin out of planks of vine !

Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 177

Oh that my Face the Brightness of this Wine Garner

Might borrow, and when dead, this Clay of mine, — (V. 10)

I pray Thee wash it with the Grape, then make
My Coffin of the tendrils of the vine.

O teure Genossen vom Trinkerorden, Bodenstedt

Gelb wie Bernstein ist mein Antlitz geworden, (IX. 67)

Bringt Wein, um es wieder zu beleben

Und den Wangen gesunde Röte zu geben.
Und leg' ich mich einst zum Sterben nieder,

So wascht mit rotem Wein meine Glieder ;
Das Holz des Weinstocks diene zur Truhe,

So lasst mich tragen zur ewigen Ruhe.

Ihr Freunde! füllt mir den Becher mit Wein, Von Schack

damit mein Herz nicht darbe ! (275)

Schafft meinem blassen Gesicht durch den Wein

von Neuem Rubinenfarbe,
Und, wenn Ihr in Wein gewaschen mich habt, nach

meinen letzten Geboten,
In einem Sarge von Rebenholz bestattet dereinst

den Toten !

The second edition of FitzGerald (XCVIII, 1S6S) is the
same, except for the 2d line, which reads : —

And wash my body whence the Life has died.

See Appendix XL.

In the second edition (1S6S) of FitzGerald the above quatrain
was followed by one numbered XCIX, afterwards expunged;
its prototype is unknown : —

Whither resorting from the vernal Heat

Shall Old Acquaintance Old Acquaintance greet,

Under the Branch that leans above the l\ all
To shed his Blossom over head and feet.

178 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyâm.

PitzGerald TJiat ev'n my buried Ashes such a snare
(XCll.) Of Vintage shall fling up into the Air
1889 As not a True-believer passing by

I) i/t shall be overtaken unaware.

(Lxviii.) That ev'n my buried Ashes such a Snare
l859 Of Perfume shall fling up into the Air,

As not a True Believer passing by
But shall be overtaken unaware.

Nicolas Je veux boire tant et tant de vin que l'odeur

(m) puisse en sortir de terre quand j'y serai rentré, et

que les buveurs à moitié ivres de la veille qui

viendront visiter ma tombe puissent, par l'effet seul

de cette odeur, tomber ivres-morts.

McCarthy I wish to drink so deep, so deep of wine that its

(27) fragrance may hang about the soil where I shall

sleep, and that revellers, still dizzy from last night's

wassail, shall on visiting my tomb, from its very

perfume fall dead drunk.

Whinfield So many cups of wine will I consume,

O7) Its bouquet shall exhale from out my tomb,

And every one that passes by shall halt.
And reel and stagger with that mighty fume.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyàm. 179

Such Homage to the Cup I e'er will pay, Garner

That when my Body in the Ground they lay, (I. 16)

The Odor of my Wine will overcome
All those who happen by my Tomb to stray.

So will ich berauscht sein von geistiger Labe,
Dass der Wohlgeruch mich überlebt im Grabe,
Und nur Halbberauschte an meiner Gruft
Ganz trunken hinsinken, berauscht vom Duft.

Bodenstedt

(IX. 4.)

So viel will ich trinken, dass einst der Duft
Des Weines noch steigt aus meiner Gruft
Und die Zecher, die hin zu dem Grabe wallen,
Verauscht von dem Dufte zu Boden fallen.

Von Schack

(98)

See Appendix XLI.

Nicolas says : —

Ce quatrain, qu'on serait tenté de considérer comme essen-
tiellement épicurien, s'il ne sortait de la plume de Khèyam,
est cependant allégorique et se rapporte à Dieu. Notre poëte
veut être entièrement absorbé dans V amour divin, et servir
d'exemple a ceux qui reste?it après lui; il veut que, comme
lui, méprisant les choses mondaines, ils se livrent corps et âme
à la seule chose ici-bas digne de préoccuper un esprit sage, à
la Divinité.

It must not be forgotten that Omar was a wit, and that Nico-
las, who causes a nightingale to speak " in language appropriate
to the circumstances," was deficient in that divine quality. The
seriousness of Nicolas's interpretation only haltingly accords
with the extravagant humor of the conceit.

i8o Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGerald Indeed the Idols I have loved so long

(XCIII.) Have done my credit in this World much wrong,
1889 Have drown d my Glory in a shallow Cup,

And sold my reputation for a Song.

(i. xix.) Indeed the Idols I have loved so long
l8S9 Have done my Credit in Men's Eye much wrong:

Have drown'd my Honour in a shallow Cup,
And sold my Reputation tor a Song.

Nicolas
(-42

Une fois dans la taverne on ne peut faire ses
ablutions qu'avec du vin. Là, quand un nom est
souillé, il ne saurait être réhabilité. Apporte donc
du vin, puisque le voile de notre pudeur est déchiré
de manière à ne pouvoir être réparé.

McCarthy Once thou art in the tavern, thou canst only

(2S7) make thy ablutions with wine. When thy name

hath once been befouled there, thou canst not again
cleanse it. Bring hither the wine therefore, since
the covering of our shame hath been torn beyond
repair.

Whinfield Needs must the tavern-haunter bathe in wine,
(165) por none can make a tarnished name to shine ;

Go ! bring me wine, for none can now restore
Its pristine sheen to this soiled veil of mine.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 181

In der Schenke macht man seine Waschungen mit Bodenstedt
Wein, (IX. 74)

Doch ein befleckter Ruf wird dort nicht wieder
rein ;

Wir erfuhren das selber längst ohne Überraschung ;

Bringt Wein her, wir fahren fort in der Waschung !

Hier in der Schenke, mit Wein allein wird hier die Von Schack
Waschung gehalten, (279)

Verloren bin ich nun doch einmal ; so bleib' es denn
auch bei'm Alten !

Bring Wein ! bring Wein ! der Scham und der
Scheu hab' ich mich doch entledigt,

Und meinen Ruf stellt nichts mehr her, er ist zu
tief geschädigt.

Line 2 in FitzGerald's 2d edition (CI, 1868) reads ; —
Have done my credit in Men'1 s eye much wrongs
See Appendix XLII ; also Rubâiyât in Preface.

Rubdiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald
(XC1V.)

iSSg
(LXX.)

i859

McCarthy
(,2)

Whinfleld

(42s)

Nicolas
(133)

McCarthy
(255)

Indeed, indeed. Repentance oft before
I swore — but was I sober when J swore f
And then and then came Spring, and Rose-in-

hand
My thread-bare Penitence apieces tore.

Every morn I say this shall be the night of
repentance, repentance from the flagon, and from
the bowl brimming over, repentance. Yet now
that the season of roses has come set me free in
the time of the rose from repentance, O Lord of
repentance.

Each morn I say, "To-night I will repent
Of wine, and tavern haunts no more frequent ; "
But while 't is spring, and roses are in bloom,
To loose me from my promise, O consent !

Compare also :

Ne renonces pas à boire du vin, si tu en possèdes,
car cent repentirs suivent une pareille résolution. Les
roses déchirent leurs corolles, les rossignols remplissent
l'air de leurs chants, serait-il raisonnable de renoncer à
boire dans un semblable moment ?

Do not forswear the juice of the vine if you have any
store thereof. For many a repenting sign will follow
such a sacrifice. The roses shed their petals, the night-
ingales cast their songs abroad upon the air: would it
be wise in such an hour to forswear the flagon ?

Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam. 183

Lorsque ma nature m'a paru disposée à la prière et Nicolas
au jeûne, j'ai un instant espéré que j'allais atteindre (162)

le but de tous mes désirs ; mais, hélas ! un vent a suffi
pour détruire l'efficacité de mes ablutions, et une demi-
gorgée de vin est venue mettre à néant mon jeûne.

What time my being seemed to lean to prayer and McCarthy-
fasting, I deemed for a moment that I was about to (,i3)
touch the goal of my desires ; but, alas, a breath has
sufficed to destroy the efficacy of my ablutions, and a
half measure of wine has set my fasts aside.

Zu Fasten fühlt' ich und zu Gebet mich jüngst gedrängt Von Schack

und dachte : vielleicht (2?S)

Wird nun das ewige Heil von mir, nach dem ich seit

lang mich gesehnt, erreicht ;
Allein ein Windhauch hat das Gebet alsbald mir auf

den Lippen verweht,
Ein halber Weinschluck, eh' ich's gedacht, mein Fasten

all zu nichte gemacht.

See Appendix XLIII.

184 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald And much as Wine has play 'd the Infidel,
(XCV.) And robb 'd me of my Robe of Honour — Well,
1889 j wonder often what the Vintners buy

One half so precious as the stuff they sell.

(Lxxi.) And much as Wine has play'd the Infidel,
'859 And robb'd me of my Robe of Honour — well,
I often wonder what the Vintners buy
One half so precious as the Goods they sell.

(CHI.) And much as Wine has play'd the Infidel,

And robbed me of my Robe of Honour — well,

I often wonder what the Vintners buy
One half so precious as the ware they sell.

Nicolas Depuis le jour où Vénus et la lune apparurent

(463) dans le ciel, personne n'a rien vu ici-bas de pré-
férable au vin en rubis. Je suis vraiment étonné
de voir les marchands de vin, car que peuvent-ils
acheter de supérieur à ce qu'ils vendent?

M- K- Since the Moon and the Star of Eve first shone on

high,
Naught has been known with ruby Wine could
vie :
Strange, that the vintners should in traffic deal !
Better than what they sell, what could they buy?

Rubdiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 185

While Moon and Venus in the sky shall dwell, Whinfield

None shall see aught red grape-juice to excel: (2o8)

O foolish publicans, what can you buy
One half so precious as the goods you sell ?

Since Venus and the Moon have cheered the Sky, Garner
Naught have Men seen with Purple Wine to vie ; (VI. 14)

What half so precious as this sparkling Juice,
Can these same thoughtless Vintners buy ?

Seit der Mond und Venus am Himmel stehn, Bodenstedt

Ward auf Erden nicht Edleres als Wein gesehn. (lX- 3)

Der Weinhändler ist ein erstaunlicher Mann,
Da er Bessres verkauft als er kaufen kann.

The first two lines of Whinfield, 115 (1882), read : —
While moon and constant stars in heaven dwell,
No starlike ruby can bright wine excel ;

See Appendix XLIV.

i86 Rubàiyàt <>f Omar Khayyam.

FitzGeraid Yet Ah, that Spring should vanish with the Rose!
(XÇV1 ) ThatYouth's sweet-scented manuscript should dose !
i88q ^l€ Nightingale tltat in tin- brain Ins sang,

Ah whence, and whither flown again, who know* '

(i.xxii.) Alas, that Spring should vanish with the Rose !

That Youth's sweet-scented Manuscript should
close !
The Nightingale that in the Branches sang,
Ah, whence, and whither Sown again, who knows!

M- K- Ah! that young Life should close its volume bright

away !
Mirth's springtime green, that it should pass from
sight away !
Ah ! for the Bird of Joy whose name is Youth :
We know not when she came, nor when took flight
away '.

Now is the volume of my youth outworn,
And all my spring-tide blossoms rent and torn.
Ah, bird of youth ! I marked not when you
came,
Nor when you fled, and left me thus forlorn.

My Manuscript of Youth has dusty grown,
The Roses of My Spring will soon be blown,

The joyful Bird of Youth that hovered near, —
I know not Whence it came, nor Whither flown.

Von Schack Nun ist der Lenz geschwunden mit der Rose,
(62) Der Jugend schönes Buch zu Ende schon ;

Die Nachtigall mit ihrem Liedgekose

Wo kam sie her ? wohin ist sie entfloh'n ?

Whinfleld
(■55)

Garner
(VII. 6)

Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyàm. 1S7

Compare also : —

Hélas ! le décret de notre adolescence, touche à son Nicolas
terme ! Le frais printemps de nos plaisirs s'est écoulé ! (l28)

Cet oiseau de la gaieté qui s'appelle la jeunesse, hélas',
je ne sais ni quand il est venu, ni quand il s'est envolé.

Alas, the season of my youth decays, the kindly Spring McCarthy
of our delights goes by, and that delightful bird, whose (223)

name is Youth, has flown. It came, I know not whence,
and goes, I know not whither.

Ach, des Lebens Mai naht dem Ziele,

Vorbei sind die Freuden und Spiele !
Dieser Vogel der Fröhlichkeit

Genannt die Jugendzeit,
Schwang fort sein Gefieder,

Und kommt nicht wieder!
Ich weiss nicht, wann er gekommen, —

Und wohin den Weg er genommen.

Bodenstedt
(VI. 4)

Schon schwindet mein Leben nach und nach ; Von Schack

Der blühende Frühling der Freuden, im Welken ist er (l82)

schon ;
î »as muntere Vöglein Jugend, ach !

Nicht weiss ich, wie es gekommen, noch wie es plötz-
lich entfloh 'n.

Whinfield, 86 (1882), has, in line 2, springtide's blossoms
lines 2 and 3 read, how you came, Nor how you fled.
See Rubâ'iy VII, p. 14.

[SS

Rubàiyât oj Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald Would but the Desert of the Fountain yield
(XCVII.) One glimfse if dimly, yet indeed, reveafd,
«88g p0 whüh the fainting Traveller might spring,

As springs the trampled herbage oj the field I

(CV.) Would but the Desert of the Fountain yield
1868 One glimpse it dimly, yet indeed reveal'd

Toward which the fainting Traveller might
spring,
As springs the trampled herbage of the field !

Nicolas Oh ! plût à Dieu qu'il existât un lieu de n pos,

(400) qUe le chemin (pie nous suivons y pût aboutir.

Plût a Dieu qu'après cent raille ans nous pussions

concevoir l'espérance de renaître du cœur de la

terre, comme renaît le vert gazon !

McCarthy -Oh, would that there were a place to rest, that
(440) by this road we might arrive : oh, that after a

hundred thousand years we might arise anew from
the heart of the earth like the green grasses.

Whinfield Ah ! would there were a place of rest from pain,
(442) Which we, poor pilgrims, might at last attain,

And after many thousand wintry years.
Renew our life, like flowers, and bloom again !

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 189

O wollte Gott, es gab' einen Ort voll Frieden, Bodenstedt

Und wir fänden den richtigen Weg schon hie- (V 36)

nieden ! .
Wollte Gott, wir könnten einst aus dem Staube
Auferstehen gleich dem frischen Rasen und

Laube !

O fände irgendwo das Herz nur eine Ankerstätte! Von Schack
O dass der Mensch zum mindesten die Eine ('70)

Aussicht hätte,
Einst - möchten bis dahin auch zehn Jahrtausende

verfliesen —
Gleich diesem Rasen neu dem Schoss der Erde

zu entspriessen.

Whinfield, 229 (1SS2), has no commas separating poor

pilgrims, and the last line begins, Renew our youth.

iço Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGeraid Would but some winged Angel ere too late
(xcv 1 1 1 .) A rrest the yet unfolded Roll of Fate,
1889 And make the stern Recorder otherwise

Enregister, or quite obliterate !

(cvi.) Oh if the World were but to re-create,
1868 That we might catch ere closed the Book of Kate,

And make The Writer on a fairer leaf
Inscribe our names, or quite obliterate !

Nicolas Je voudrais que Dieu reconstruisît le monde, je

(457) voudrais qu'il le reconstruisît actuellement, pour
ce que je pusse voir Dieu à l'œuvre. Je voudrais
qu'il effaçât mon nom du bulletin de la vie, ou que
de son trésor mystérieux il augmentât mes moyens
d'existence.

McCarthy I would that God rebuilt the world anew, and

(44*) that I might see the work begun. I would that
God blotted my name from the roll of life, or of
his bounty made life seem more fair.

M. K.

I would God were this whole world's scheme
renewing,

— And now ! at once ! that I might see it doing !
That either from His roll my name were can-
celled,

Or luckier days for me from Heaven accruing !

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 191

I wish that Allah would rebuild these skies, "Whinfield

And earth, and that at once, before my eyes, (486)

And either raze my name from off his roll,
Or else relieve my dire necessities.

Ich wollte, Gott schüfe die Welt auf's Neu', Bodenstedt

Gleich jetzt ; dann bat' ich ihn ohne Scheu : (x- 31)

Mich ganz aus dem Buche des Lebens zu streichen,
Oder mir bessere Mittel zum Leben zu reichen.

Schüfe Gott die Welt auf's Neu doch, dass sie Von Schack
nicht der jetz'gen gliche ! (238)

Möcht' er doch mich zuschau'n lassen, dass ich
sähe wie er's macht !
O dass in des Lebens Buche dann er meinen
Namen striche,
Oder bess'res Los mir gönnte, als er jetzt mir
zugedacht !

Whinfield, 251 (1SS2), reads: —

Allah ! rebuild flic world in fairer guise,
And do it on the spot before my eyes,

And either raze my name from Thy roll
Or make me better, happier, more wise.

1 92 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald Ah Love', could 'you and 1 with Him am spire
(XCIX.) To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,
1889 Would not we shatter it to bits — and then

Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's desire !

(LXXill.) Ah Love! could thou and I with Fate conspire
■859 To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,
Would not we shatter it to bits — and then
Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire !

Nicolas Si je possédais sur les cieux la puissance que

(340) Dieu y exerce, je les supprimerais de ce monde, et

j'en construirais d'autres à ma façon, ahn que

l'homme libre pût ici-bas atteindre sans difficulté

les désirs de son cœur.

McCarthy If I, like God, were master of the heavens, I

(378) would blot them from the world, and fashion new
skies beneath which free man might gain his
heart's desire.

M. K. If I like God o'er Heaven's high fate could reign,

I 'd sweep away the present Heaven's domain,

And from its ruins such a new one build
That an honest heart its wish could aye attain !

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyàm. 193

Had I the power great Allah to advise, Whinfield

I 'd bid him sweep away this earth and skies, (379)

And build a better, where, unclogged and free,
The clear soul might achieve her high emprise.

Oh that to Heaven's Control I might aspire, Garner

And sweep away this Universe Entire, (II- 8)

Then from the Ruins build another World,
Where Man might sometimes reach his Heart's
Desire.

Könnt' ich walten wie Gott im Himmelszelt, Bodenstedt

Ich hätt' es schon längst auf den Kopf gestellt, (v- 25)

Um ein andres zu bauen, wie ich es verstehe,
Welches ganz nach den Wünschen der Menschen
sich drehe.

Wenn Gott die Macht, die selbst er hat, mir Von Schack
gönnte, (")

Die jetz'ge Welt würd' ich alsbald vernichten,

Und eine andere daraus errichten,
Darin der Mensch nach Wunsche leben könnte.

The first line of FitzGerald's second edition (CVIII, 1S6S)
reads : —

Ah Love ! could you and I with fate conspire.

Whinfield, 200 (1882), reads: Had I the right . . . I
would bid . . . The clear soul might essay her high emprise.

194 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald Yon rising Moon that looks for us again —
(C.) How oft hereafter will she wax and -cane ;

18S9 How oft lie re after rising look for us

Through this sann Garden — and for one in vain ?

(LXXIV.) Ah, Moon of ray Delight who know'st no wane,
,859 The Moon of Heav'n is rising once again :

How oft hereafter rising shall she look
Through this same Garden after me — in vain !

(Cix.) But see ! The rising Moon of Heav'n again
1868 Looks for us, Sweet-heart, through the quivering

Plane :
How oft hereafter rising will she look
Amonç those leaves — for one of us in vain !

Nicolas

(8)

Puisque personne ne saurait te répondre du jour
de demain, empresse-toi de réjouir ton cœur plein
de tristesse; bois, ô lune adorable ! bois dans une
coupe vermeille, car la lune du firmament tournera
bien longtemps (autour de la terre), sans nous y
retrouver.

McCarthy Since no man dares play prophet for to-morrow,

(9) hasten to lift thy heavy-laden heart. Drain, O de-

lightful Moon, a crimson cup, for heaven's moon
will turn a weary while and fail to find us.

M. K. Since none can be our surety for to-morrow,

Sweeten, my love, thy heart to-day from sorrow :

Drink wine, fair Moon, in wine-light, for the moon
Will come again, and miss us, many a morrow !

Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam. 195

Since no one can assure thee of the morrow, Whinfield

Rejoice thy heart to-day, and banish sorrow (7)

With moonbright wine, fair moon, for heaven's
moon
Will look for us in vain on many a morrow.

Ah, since the Future's Riddles none can guess. Garner
Come fill the Cup, the Cup that drowns Distress, (V. 8)

Ah, Love, yon Moon will often rise again,
Will rise and miss us in Her loneliness.

To-morrow rank and fame for none may be, (3)

So for to-day thy weary soul set free ;

Drink with me, love, once more beneath the
moon ;
She oft may shine again, but not on thee and me.

Da die Tage uns'res Lebens rasch und unauf- Von Schack

haltsam schwinden, (g6)

Da, ob morgen noch wir atmen, keiner uns vermag

zu künden,
Lass, o du mein Mond, uns froh sein ! Ach der

Mond da droben wird
Oft noch um die Erde kreisen, ohne uns auf ihr zu

finden !

Line 3 of Whinfield, 2 (1SS2), begins : With sparkling wine.
See Appendix I.

196 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

PitzGerald And when like her, oh Sâki,you shall pass
(CI.) Among the Guests Star-scatter 'd on the Grass,
j889 And in your joyous errand reach the spot

Where I made One — turn down an empty Glass !

TAMÂM.

(Lxxv.) And when Thyself with shining Foot shall pass
,859 Among the Guests Star-scatter'd on the Grass,

And in thy joyous Errand reach the Spot
Where I made one — turn down an empty Glass !

TAMÄM SHUD.

(CI.)
1872

Nicolas

(-92)

McCarthy
(104)

M. K.

And when Yourself with silver Foot shall pass
Among the Guests Star-scatter'd on the Grass,

And in your blissful errand reach the spot
Where* I made One — turn down an empty Glass !

TA. M A.M.

O amis ! convenez d'un rendez-vous (après ma
mort). Une fois réunis, réjouissez-vous d'être
ensemble, et, lorsque l'échanson prendra dans sa
main une coupe de vin vieux, souvenez-vous du
pauvre Khèyam et buvez à sa mémoire.

O, my friends, when I am sped, appoint a meet-
ing and when ye have met together, be ye glad
thereof, and when the cup-bearer holds in her hand
a flagon of old wine, then think upon old Khayyam
and drink to his memory.

Appoint ye a tryst, happy comrades, anon !

And when — as your revel in gladness comes on —

The Saki takes goblet in hand, oh ! remember,
And bless, while you drink, the poor fellow that 's
gone !

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 19 7

Comrades ! when e'er ye meet together here, Whinfield

Recall your friend to mind, and drop a tear ; (234)

And when the circling wine-cups reach his seat,
Pray turn one upside down his dust to cheer.

O meine Freunde, gelobt, einst munter Euch Bodenstedt

Hier zu versammeln, wenn ich nicht mehr unter (ix. s)

Euch,
Den Pokal voll alten Weins zu schenken
Und trinkend des armen Chajjam zu gedenken.

Wenn ich gestorben bin, in unser Weinhaus lenkt Von Schack
Die Schritte noch einmal, Ihr Freunde, und (**)

gedenkt,
Indess voll alten Weins der Wirt die Gläser

schenkt,
Des armen Chijam, den sie in das Grab gesenkt.

In FitzGerald's first draught of edition III he changed Foot to
step. In CX (1868) the third line has joyous errand.
Whinfield, 112 (1882), reads: —

When the sad day of Khayyam's death comes round
Let your regrets, O friends, in wine be drowned;
And when the wine cups reach his vacant seat,
Let one deep draught be poured upon the ground.
"Tamam" means entirely, hence end; " tamâm shud"
means it is completed.

Whinfield 205 is a variant of 234 : —

O comrades dear, when hither ye repair
In times to come, communion sweet to share,

While tht cupbearer pours your old Magh wine,
Call poor Khayyam to mind, and breathe a prayer.

RUBAIYAT WHICH WERE INCLUDED IN THE
SECOND EDITION (1868), BUT OMITTED FROM
SUBSEQUENT EDITIONS.

FitzGerald Were it not Folly, Spider-like to spin

(Xiv.) The Thread of present Life away to win —
1868 What? for ourselves, who know not if we shall

Breathe out the very Breath we now breathe in !

Nicolas
(366)

Jusques à quand m'infligerai-je le souci de savoir
si je possède ou si je ne possède pas ? si je dois ou
si je ne dois pas passer gaiement la vie ? Remplis
toujours une coupe de vin, ô échanson ! car
j'ignore si j'expirerai ou non ce souffle qu'actuelle-
ment j'aspire.

McCarthy How long shall I vex me with the have or have-

(465) not, with wondering if I should or should not pass

life pleasantly? Nay, fill the cup, my cup-bearer,

for in truth I know not if I shall breathe out the

breath I now breathe in.

Whinfield Shall I still sigh for what I have not got,
(4") Or try with cheerfulness to bear my lot?

Fill up my cup ! I know not if the breath
I now am drawing is my last, or not !

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 199

Wie lange soll mich der Zweifel bedräuen, Bodenstedt

Ob ich habe oder nicht ? (vin- 6?)

Ob ich des Lebens mich soll erfreuen

Als guter Gabe, oder nicht ?
Füll' mir den Becher mit Wein, denn ich weiss

nicht,
Ob dieser Atemzug jetzt führt zum Grabe, oder
nicht.

Wie lang noch über was ich bin soll sich mein Von Schack

armer Kopf zerbrechen ? (102)

Wie lang noch von Enthaltsamkeit und Mässigung

mir wollt ihr sprechen ?
Ich weiss nicht, ob den Atemzug, den jetzt ich

thue, auszuthun
Vergönnt mir ist ; so lang ich 's kann, o Schenke,

lass darum mich zechen !

200 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm.

FitzGerald If but the Vine and Love-abjuring Band
(LXV.) /ire in the Prophet's Paradise to stand,
1868 Alack, I doubt the Prophet's Paradise

Were empty as the hollow of one's Hand.

Nicolas On affirme qu'il y aura, qu'il y a même un enfer.

(64) C'est une assertion erronée ; on ne saurait y ajouter

foi, car, s'il existait un enfer pour les amoureux et

les ivrognes, le paradis serait, dès demain, aussi

vide que le creux de ma main.

McCarthy Folk say that there is a hell. This is a vain

(13O error, in which no trust should be placed, for if

there were a hell for lovers and bibbers of wine, why ■
heaven would be, from to-morrow morn, as empty
as the hollow of my hand.

Whinfield Drunkards are doomed to hell, so men declare,
(67) Believe it not, 't is but an empty scare;

Heaven will be empty as this hand of mine,
If none who love good drink find entrance there.

Garner With Tales of future pains men threaten me,

(I. 19) They say there is a Hell in store for thee ; —
Love, if there is a Hell for all like us,
Their Heaven as empty as my Palm will be.

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 201

Man behauptet, dass eine Hölle sei Bodenstedt

Und kommt zu mir und droht damit. (n- ")

Ich halte die Hölle für Narretei.

Drum hab1 ich keine Not damit.
Denn gab' es wirklich ein solch Verliess

Für der verliebten Trinker Heer,
So wäre morgen das Paradies.

Wie meine hohle Hand so leer.

Von einer Hölle spricht man mir, in die ich Von Schack

kommen würde, (176)

Doch glaub' ich's nicht, ob schwer gedrückt auch

von der Sünden Bürde,
Denn, gab' es für verliebtes Volk und Trinker eine

Hölle,
Leer würde, wie meine hohle Hand, der Himmel

ja zur Stelle.

Wh in field, 33 (1S82), reads : —

If wine be an unpardonable sin,
God help Khayyam and his wine-bibbing kin !
If all poor drouthy souls be lodged elsewhere.
Heaven'' s plains must be as bare as maiden'' s chin.

For a somewhat similar Rubâ'iy, see Appendix XLV.

202

Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam.

FitzGerald Better, oh better, cancel from the Scroll
(CVll.) Of Universe one luckless Human Soul,
1868 Than drop by drop enlarge the Flood" that rolls

Hoarser with A nguish as the Ages roll.

Nicolas O mon pauvre cœur ! puisque ton sort est d être

(25) meurtri jusqu'au sang par le chagrin, puisque ta

nature veut que tu sois chaque jour accablé d'un
nouveau tourment, alors, ô âme ! dis-moi ce que
tu es venue faire dans mon corps, dis, puisque tu
dois enfin le quitter un jour ?

McCarthy O, my sad soul, since it is your destiny to be

(54) pierced to the quick by sorrow, since Nature bids

that you shall be troubled every day with a new
torment, therefore, O my soul, tell me why you took
up your abode in my body, seeing that you must
one day quit it?

Whinfield O soul ! whose lot it is to bleed with pain,
(29) And daily change of fortune to sustain,

Into this body wherefore didst thou come,
Seeing thou must at last 2:0 forth aeain?

Bodenstedt O du armes Herz, das sich blutig quält,

(v- 43) Weil Dir keinen Tag Fülle des Unglücks fehlt,
Sag, Seele, was führte Dich in meine Brust,
Die Du doch bald wieder verlassen musst ?

Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyâm. 203

O mein armes Herz, da täglich neue Trübsal dich Von Shack

zerreisst, <28)

Da in ruhelosem Wandel Alles um dich wankt und

kreis't,
Sprich, warum in diesem Körper, den von Neuem

— und wie bald ! —
Zu verlassen dir verhängt ist, nahmst du deinen

Aufenthalt ?

In Whinfield, 14 (18S2), line 2 has, daily blows of fortune ;
line 4 reads : —

Seeing thoit must so soon depart again.
See Appendix XLVI.

CENTRAL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY
University of California, San Diego

DATE DUE

IG 18 1977

AUG 0 8 1977

J UN 05 1978

CI 39

UCSD Libr.

UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY

AA 001317 743

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Full text of "Rubáiyát of Omar Khayy am: English, French, and German translations comparatively arranged in accordance with the text of Edward Fitzgerald's version"

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